Genius
by wintersalad
Summary: "Genius is one percent inspiration, ninety-nine percent perspiration." As a girl fighting against numerous obstacles, Ryoma will show Seigaku just how Edison defines tennis.
1. Genius 000: A New Beginning

Wintersalad │ Disclaimer: I do not own "Prince of Tennis" or any referenced translations. │ Written: 10/03/10 │ Posted: 10/09/10 │ Last Edited: 05/14/11

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**Genius 000: A New Beginning**

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_Arrived Tokyo (NRT) 2:05 pm_

_United Airlines, Flight 837_

"_Ryoma"_

_Sleepy eyes blinked blearily up from beneath the shade of a tree, fluttering the hazy edges of the world away. Anxious to keep the hands of sleep (of half-recognized nightmares) away, the child of eight struggled to sit up from a warm lap. _

_Rubbing one eye shut, the other soft yellow gazed at the slumped figure leaning against the rough bark of an orange tree, looking up at the bright sun and clear skies filtered through summer foliage. _

"_Hm?"_

_The child could not help but notice how the dark man's gloomy expression contrasted (so sharply!) with the day's cheery weather. With his full weight propped against the core of the tree, it looked almost as if he was borrowing his fast fading strength from the natural life around him._

_._

"_What do you think it takes to be a genius?"_

_._

_Creasing twin delicate brows together, Ryoma took in the serious undertones belying the brooding man's usual carefree nature. What is he talking about all of a sudden…?_

"_Is it talent? Inspiration? _

_Maybe skill? _

_Dedication?"_

_Haunted eyes shifted towards the lower right to hold the child in its grieving gaze. _

_._

"_Is it love?"_

_._

"Ryoma!"

Haunted liquid-gold sank to hard amber as intent golden eyes snapped awake beneath the sudden onslaught of bright light.

Twirling a white cap around a pointed finger, a slovenly groomed man pouted most unbecomingly at the still reclining figure hunched uncomfortably in the cramp seat. Briefly, the addressed figure wondered if the man from before was preferable to the one standing here now.

"Get up kid. We're here."

Blinking, the teen swiveled around to face the window. Indeed, it looked as if they have landed. Uneven green locks fell across a pale face and dark eyes watched the reflection of a small hand reaching up to touch the crudely shorn locks.

"Come on already. You need a haircut. And _I_ need to see how Nanako-chan's all grown up!"

Ignoring the already departing old man, Ryoma glared hard at the dark eyes staring straight back from behind the distant stretches of Japan.

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It doesn't feel as if anything has changed.

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What is a thirty-hour long flight supposed to accomplish that four _years_ of fighting in the U.S. didn't?

Narrowing sharp eyes at the unforgiving reflection, Ryoma inwardly answered the question left unanswered so long ago.

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_What it takes to be a genius isn't love, but _pain_._

_._

_Tokyo (NRT) 12:12 pm_

_Departed from New York (JFK) 7:17 pm_

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**End Genius 000**

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**Illustration:**

http:/ /wintersalad. deviantart .com/art/Genius-000-191090877

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A/N: Greetings! After the many helpful reviews from dedicated readers, I have decided to add a prologue to _Genius_ and edit the first few chapters, mainly chapter one though. A brief notice of warning as well: the beginning few chapters of _Genius_ are meant as an introduction. The changes I have made to the original manga, what will make _Genius_ different and into a genuine fanfic and not just a script-version of the original, will be clearer as the chapters go on. I will most definitely reveal more of the foundations of this story as the story develops. Hopefully this prologue grabbed your attention!

Please give this story a chance and let me know what you think! Thank you for reading!


	2. Genius 001: Echizen Ryoma

Wintersalad │ Disclaimer: I do not own "Prince of Tennis" or any referenced translations. │ Written: 09/10/10 │ Posted: 09/10/10 │ Last Edited: 05/01/11

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_Gakino Gizaka Junior Tennis Tournament_

_Pock_

_Pock_

"Did you hear?

_Pock_

A 12-year-old is going to be in the 16-year-old division!"

_Pock_

"No way! Are you sure you didn't make a mistake?"

_Pock_

"I checked the registrations…

_Pock_

_Pock_

I'm sure it said _#48 Echizen Ryoma, 12-years-old__!_"

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**Genius 001: Echizen Ryoma***

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"Wahahaha! You idiots still don't know the difference between the western grip and the eastern grip?"

At the exclamation, a pair of dark eyes opened lethargically from beneath the shade of a white cap, looking to pinpoint what exactly was hindering a quick nap on the train. Locating the three high school students standing at the center of attention, bored eyes quickly left the three in peripheral view in favor of watching the passengers glance uncomfortably at the racket out of the corner of their eyes. One of the aforementioned idiots started to laugh obnoxiously and swung a racket around haphazardly without a care to his fellow passengers. The neighboring people looked obviously distressed, but appeared too timid to voice their complaints. No need to go around asking for trouble, right?

Sighing, the roused figure slumped forward to place a weary head upon hands propped up by elbows on knees. _'Japan, huh?'_

"For the top spin it's the western grip," the young man standing continued. His shoulder-length hair slid forward as he leaned towards his friends. "Hold the racket as if you're shaking hands."

"Wow, you sure know your stuff, Sasabe!"

"This is common sense you moron!" Despite his response however, Sasabe looked quite pleased, preening under his friends' admiration.

Incredulous, previously dull eyes sharpened and snapped wide open to take in the idiots standing on the opposite side. Noting the troubled passengers inching away from the spectacle and averting their eyes, the small figure scowled with irritation. If they wished to be passive and avoid confrontation, they should at least get rid of the reproach within their averted eyes! If these idiots wished to be a nuisance to society and claim otherwise, they should at least do so smartly so no one can mock their logic!

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"Hey, why don't you tone it down?"

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"…"

All eyes slid towards the bold voice. The scattering passengers stopped in their movements, partially to discourage attention and partially to focus on the tension unfolding in the air. They all watched as Sasabe turned his head to look at the person who interrupted his fun.

"Ha! Whoa!"

_Clatter_

"Tahahahaha!" Laughing while crouched to pick up his dropped racket, Sasabe remarked incredulously, "What the hell! I just got told off by a middle school brat!"

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"Bingo!"

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Ignoring the older boy's passing jibe, the still slouched figure's nonchalant posture and tone was belied by the intense stare pinning Sasabe down. "That's the correct western grip. Holding the upper part of the racket and clamping it is the correct way. The "shaking hands" grip you were bragging about earlier is the eastern grip."

Everyone took in the appearance of what seemed to be a young child wearing a long-sleeved sports jacket with knee-length shorts. The clothes were ill-fitted, as if they were borrowed from someone else. They watched as the skinny figure swamped in the billowy clothes smirked thinly at Sasabe and leaned back, tugging a white cap over neatly cropped short black hair. Long lashes kissed smooth skin as the impromptu lecture continued, "It's common for people to make a mistake and learn it the opposite way."

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"_This stop is Sei Haruda! Sei Haruda!"_

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Startled, Sasabe jerked upright while his friends laughed and kicked him up and out the door. "Haha! Sasabe sure got told!"

"Must be embarrassing to be corrected by a kid, huh Sasabe?" the girl giggled, enjoying her fun at the boy's expense. She had tagged along with the boys at their offer of watching the (their) tennis matches at the tournament. Despite their dubious popularity at school, she couldn't pass up the offer of making a few connections outside her current circle. It didn't hurt that Sasabe's father was rather well known and that the boy himself was rumored to be his father's son.

"Sh-shut up! Hurry up and get off!"

Sighing at the meaningless exchange, the previously reclining child hopped up and moved towards the closing doors, following the group off the train. With one foot out the door, the young upstart shifted a tennis bag back and turned to glance at the elderly couple who was sitting across from the commotion. During the earlier surveillance, they were the only two people who had calmly witnessed everything with composure, as if the occurrences were beneath their notice. Even during the little confrontation, the two had merely glanced their way with mild interest, as if judging their worth with wisdom garnered from many years. Not knowing whether to respect their dignified attitude or be insulted at their presumptuous acknowledgement, the mysterious child hesitated briefly before hastily bowing to the couple, ignoring the murmurs of the other passengers, and stepped off the train and onto the platform.

The frail, elderly gentleman patted his wife's wrinkled hands softly within his own. Dressed richly in traditional garb, the two kept their appreciative gaze on the disappearing figure walking towards one of the exits. What a lonely back it was! The young had their own share of burdens to shoulder, but to do so alone…?

How sad.

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_Gakino Gizaka Garden_

"Well. I'm late."

Disgruntled, the teenager dropped to the ground and fell backwards. Observing the lazy clouds with an even lazier expression, the lying figure mused aloud, "Maybe I should've checked the maps before coming..." Rolling over to the side, a nap suddenly sounded like a good idea. Jet lag was so troublesome. Having arrived five minutes late, disqualification was guaranteed. And on the way to the entrance, the players didn't seem all that interesting, so it was hardly worth the effort to find the necessary people to be excused.

"Um…the match… Were you late?"

One eye blinked open from beneath a white cap and peered up at a young girl with twin braids reaching below her waist. Considering for a few seconds, a few bangs fell across the once-again closed eye. She didn't look familiar, but guessing from the anxious look on her face in expecting an answer, she must've been the girl who had given the directions earlier at the station. A husky voice drawled out, "Five minutes late. Disqualified." No need to explain that the disqualification could have possibly been revoked. People shouldn't give directions if they didn't know which way to go themselves. Let the girl learn to take responsibility.

There was a stretch of silence before, "I'm so sorry! Was it because of me?"

Huffing, the teen rolled over and sat up, pulling the cap lower. "That's right! Did you come here to cause me more trouble?" Turning, dark eyes glared at the flustered girl. Why was she blushing? Strange girl. After another short awkward moment however, the wronged party decided to take some pity and sighed, "…I'm thirsty."

"I'll buy you a drink!"

Walking behind the scampering female, the capped individual watched her bouncing braids. She looked around the same age. Twelve maybe? Not anyone striking in the late participant's books, since going by her feminine attire and even more feminine physique, she was definitely neither a player in the tournament nor an athlete in general. And anyone who wasn't a potential rival isn't worth much attention in the teen's eyes. Only way the girl was even recognized was by the ridiculous hair trailing behind her. How long does it take to manage such lengthy hair? Isn't it a safety-hazard?

They were almost near the vending machines and the girl looked about to say something, eyes towards the ground and a bright flush across her cheeks, when a familiar voice rang across the lot.

"Oh, well if it isn't the brat who stood me up before?"

Both younger teens turned their gaze to look at the approaching three high school students, the very same three who the young tennis-player confronted on the train. Apparently, they had switched out of their uniforms for more appropriate attire. As the so-called brat already suspected, they were participants in the tournament.

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"Ah! Watch out!"

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But the apparent leader of the three, Sasabe, had already swung his racket towards the kid who had dared to embarrass him in front of not only his friends, but the girl he'd had his eye on. You needed to teach brats like these early on!

"..!"

A pair of dark eyes glared up from beneath thick lashes without even blinking. Slightly put off tempo, Sasabe leaned back and laughed nervously. He wasn't actually planning on hitting the kid, but to have his bluff called so loudly really ticked him off. In an attempt to appear unaffected, he mocked, "Don't think you can win in tennis with just theory brat! You'd never beat me in tennis!"

As if saying it aloud made it so, his laughter gained confidence, coming out stronger when his wingman chimed in and his soon-to-be girl tittered behind him. It's not cool to take kids too seriously and it's not as if he needed to anyways. Definitely not so when he was a Sasabe and the opponent was a girly brat who can't even afford fitting clothes. He'd bet the racket inside that bag were no big deal either, probably too big as well judging from the kid's attire.

The strange girl with the pigtails began to fidget nervously, glancing between the handsome youth and the three bullying teens. There was nobody around and it looked as if the boy was holding a grudge from what happened earlier on the train… Oh, what should she _do_?

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"Hey…Did you learn the correct grips yet?"

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All three abruptly stopped their laughter and watched, stunned, as the kid walked up to the vending machines and leisurely selected a desired drink. The only sound was the faint vibrations of tennis around them and the dispensing of a canned Ponta.

Bending to reach for the drink, the kid smartly answered, "If you didn't, I don't mind teaching you a few moves."

_Fschh_

Tilting back, a smirk played on the kid's lips as the cool drink slid down.

Growling, Sasabe stabbed his racket forward, "You're on kid!"

"Lead the way then," the capped teen responded, following the three taller ones out the lot. Since they were already here, the late, and thus disqualified, participant might as well teach these three _un_qualified idiots a lesson. Tennis was the reason for the long trip here anyways.

That and good manners dictate that you should finish what you've started.

The three were crowding in on each other in good spirits. The two males danced around the girl, talking animatedly with wide gestures, apparently looking forward to showing off. The younger girl, who didn't actually pay for the drink now that the kid thought about it, continued to trail after them. Did she have any further business…? For someone who was just asked for directions, she sure did seem attached, the laid-back adolescent thought while walking in front of her.

"Haha, Sasabe, are you actually going to do this?" The young man leered at his friend, swinging his arm around Sasabe's shoulders. He'd known Sasabe since junior high, and while he's been known to go out of his way to let everyone know just how good of a tennis player he was, he'd never seen the boy actually take on a challenge from a kid before. But maybe it was _because_ it was from a kid…?

Taking a look at the court his friend had chosen, he let out a low whistle. Besides them, the girl exclaimed in a scandalous tone, "You're so cruel! You're not planning on humiliating the poor kid are you?"

Or maybe it was just because he really liked the girl…

Said poor kid stopped behind the trio and looked around, ignoring their continued discussion. With a bored expression, the young tennis player turned slowly to take in the location the leader of the band chose to have their little face-off. It was the practice court on the tennis grounds next to the actual tournament courts themselves. Plenty of players would have to pass by here to get to their designated court areas.

Really, idiots these days were all the same.

"If the kid can't handle this much publicity, then he doesn't deserve to hold his racket!" Bending towards the teen to face his challenger more directly, Sasabe boasted, "Yo! Boy! You're going to get the beating of your life! I'm going to teach you to respect you elders!"

The opponent frowned in distaste, though at being so demeaningly addressed or at the thought that Sasabe thought he was qualified to teach others about respect is up to anyone's guess. "If you say so…"

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"The best of one set match! Sasabe service play!"

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_Pock!_

"Ha! You think you can return this?"

_Slam!_

Grinning, Sasabe jeered, "That was about 180 kilo! Should I serve slower for you? Hahahahaha!"

"No thanks," the younger player replied nonchalantly, unfazed by the sudden serve.

"That's right! Going easy on bastards like you is a big mistake!"

The younger teen watched with a disapproving frown at the celebratory mood when the game had just begun. Really, what was the point of coming all the way to Japan only to meet more idiots? They were all the same. On one side of the world, they spoke English, and on the other side, they spoke Japanese- that's all there was to it.

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Their laughter still grated on the ears.

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_Pock!_

"It's too slow."

_Slam!_

"The hell? He returned Sasabe's serve?" Unable to believe his eyes, Sasabe's self-proclaimed best friend stood up and walked closer to the courts.

"Mor_on_!" Sasabe returned lightly to the spectators. "Even if-"

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"Hey."

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All eyes turn towards the smaller figure on the court. Though the facial expression remained as deadpan as ever, there was a decidedly mocking lilt to the kid's next words.

"That wasn't your actual serve was it?"

Sasabe staggered. What was this kid on about? Just because he could return it doesn't mean anything! Everyone gets lucky every now and then! Narrowing his eyes, he got back into position and ignored the banter of his friends. "You're a funny kid. You're just asking for it aren't you?

But there won't be a second chance!"

_Pock_

_Pock!_

"What the-?" Twisting quickly to reach for the ball, Sasabe barely managed to return the ball. "Risky, risky…

…!"

By the time the older teen returned his attention to the game, the other player was already at the net. That brat was fast!

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_Slam!_

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"Amazing," the braided girl breathed. Sasabe and his friends were speechless at the unexpected turn. Never did they expect that Sasabe would lose his service play, especially to a middle school kid!

Disturbed by the sudden silence, Sasabe weakly supplied, "Huh, I was just going easy on him. What can a kid's serve do to me?"

_Slam!_

"Game count 1-0. Echizen lead!"

"What?" Sasabe muttered, dazed. The game felt like it was going by way too fast for him to follow and in entirely the wrong direction. The ball just went right past him! He turned to look into angry eyes that speared straight into him. What was _he_ so upset about? The one looking bad right now was _him_!

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"Since you're playing later in the tournament, I better make this quick, right?"

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Really, the young tennis player had planned for this to be quick and only mildly painful (in the way one gets a stinging paper-cut without knowing where it came from). It was just meant to teach the older students to be more wary of the potential of other players and of their own in comparison. Being too self-reassured was dangerous. But if there is one thing more hateful than being presumptuously cocky and disrespectful to others for no apparent reason other than narcissism, it was hiding behind excuses.

.

And _oh_ did this young tennis player _hate_ excuses.

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"Haha!" What looked to be a slightly eccentric and positive woman, one who made even the frumpy sports gear she was wearing look fashionable, walked in to the practice courts. "I couldn't find her* at the tennis grounds, but I find her here? You just can't reason with a princess, huh?"

"Grandma!" The girl with the twin braids sat up in her seat. When she caught sight of the boy who rescued her on the train and kindly asked _her_ for directions, she'd forgotten all about waiting up for the woman in favor of apologizing to the young man for her incorrect instructions.

"Hey, Sakuno!" the grandmother replied with an easy grin. "Enjoying the game?"

Recalling what her grandma said upon entering the grounds, Sakuno ignored the question and remarked with an incredulous tone, "Grandma! It can't be your disciple's …?"

Smirking, the lady in pink replied, "Yea, that's her alright. Her form is killer, isn't it? So much like her father…" Trailing off, she turned to watch the match with an unreadable expression in her eyes and a twist to her lips that looked part smile and part grimace.

Flabbergasted, the young girl stared in shock before blurting out, "But I thought he was a-!"

The woman with her hair high in a ponytail glanced at her granddaughter and blinked. Suddenly she burst out laughing, realizing Sakuno thought that the young athlete was a boy.

Blushing, Sakuno hunched over in her seat and pouted. That is, before she realized the implications at hand and exclaimed, "But didn't you say she was a four time American junior champion?"

"Yes?" She replied, slightly confused at what Sakuno was startled by. "Her whole family comes back to Japan every few years so they're relatively unknown. Before this tournament, we told her that since she's so talented, she should join the 14-year-old division instead of the 12-year-old division. But that arrogant kid went ahead and signed up for the 16-year-old division!"

But Sakuno was only listening with half an ear. She'd known that her grandma's disciple was moving back to Japan permanently with his family for a while now. Grandma had specifically pulled her aside to tell her about his daughter, requesting that when the time came Sakuno would make the effort to befriend the child. Excited at the prospect of makings friends with someone who grew up in a different country, Sakuno had jumped to ask more about the girl who'd be moving in to the local shrine. Grandma had said she was a bright and cheerful child, if a bit timid. Very cute. But the image this description drew contrasted with the proud boasts following, describing a girl so talented, the she won such recognition at such an early age. Sakuno had called her grandmother's bluff, amused by the overwhelming pride in a child she neither raised nor coached, but looking at the girl before her now, she believed that they've both been had.

"Well, she's good, so it doesn't really matter.

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Echizen Ryoma, that is."

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The other two observers blanched from what they caught of the conversation. The situation was entirely different from what they expected!

"Hey, hey, even if this isn't an official game, isn't it bad if Sasabe lost to a 12-year-old?" asked the girl. She could tolerate jerks, but she couldn't tolerate losers who've strung her on! He better start showing what he learned from that supposedly professional father of his soon!

Noting the girl's distaste, but more worried for his friend's reputation should he be dumped _and_ scorned for this matter, the boy yelled out, "Sasabe! No need to go easy on the brat! Go after him with your special net-play!"

"Shut up!" Sasabe shouted. _'Who doesn't know that? That kid's hitting the ball to the back! The bastard is keeping me at the sidelines! I can't even get up to the net! What "princess"? It was _because_ he looked weak that I automatically underestimated him! But he sure as hell ain't no weak pampered princess! How many times is he going to make a fool of me?'_

"Hey," the subject of his thoughts intoned. Sasabe returned his focus to see the bastard resume his form.

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"Where's that special net-play of yours?"

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_Slam!_

"It went in!" The grandmother coolly remarked. "As expected!"

"Hold it!" Sasabe's wingman yelled out. "That ball was out just now!"

"…"

The lady crossed her arms and leaned back, observing the opponents of her disciple's daughter. She wondered what they did to make the normally disinterested girl pick up a fight…? But a self-judged game meant those punks got to judge the balls however they wanted, so they'd aim to have the girl lob the ball for Sasabe to return and run to the net, but…

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_Plunk-_

_._

"Hey

Is the ball I just hit out too?"

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Smirking, the lady eyed the ball sitting right before the line.

What a clean execution.

Gritting his teeth, Sasabe jumped as another lob was made. Angered and desperate, he glanced at the kid who fooled him more than several times standing below him while he was still suspended midair. First the kid points out his mistake on the train, then he tries to pass off as a weak-ass pansy, and now he brings out his fancy lob? Smirking menacingly, Sasabe tilted his hand back slightly before flicking his wrist, launching his racket at the kid's head.

_._

_Thud! _

_Clatter!_

_._

"Sorry! My bad, my bad. My hand slipped," Sasabe drawled out maliciously.

"You-!" Sakuno moved to get up, but the last member in the audience stopped her with a hand blocking the way. She could understand the concern for a girl's face, but Ryoma would not appreciate the sentiment. Frowning, she grimly realized that there may be things she would need to discuss with her granddaughter later.

But the minorly injured athlete was already getting up, humming softly while bending down towards the ground to grab the fallen white cap.

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"You still haven't shown me a proper grip yet."

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Turning away, Echizen Ryoma ignored Sasabe as he continued to goad her. Weaker dogs always barked the loudest from her experience. She dusted the cap and placed it back over her head, muttering quietly, "Game count 5-2. Echizen lead."

Sasabe smirked at the small figure across the court. Confident that his recent ploy managed to shake the brat's nerves, he mused to himself, _'He's just trying to look cool, but he's probably steaming on the inside. I'll get you yet, you little brat!'_

_._

_Tshshshsh!_

_._

"Ugh! What the-?" Sasabe flinched away from the ball. _'What was that just now? It looked as if the ball made a turn in the air after hitting the ground to fly at me!'_

"…!"

Startled, the previously reclining lady contemplating dark thoughts stood back up to evenly distribute her weight between her feet. "That serve…" She smirked. It appears that her disciple had left out a few details about his daughter's progressive talents. The little lady must be pretty pissed to pull that move in a match of this caliber. One couldn't tell from the look on her face, but she must be itching to hurt the kid on the opposite side of the court.

"15-0," Ryoma calmly reported.

_Wham! _

This time, the ball successfully made contact with Sasabe's face.

"30-0"

To the side of the court, Sasabe's friends were watching the display with increasing dread. "No way! Is that the twist serve…?" the guy whispered disbelievingly. "Even adults have a difficult time hitting that!" Not knowledgeable in tennis, but understanding the situation just the same, the girl paled. What first appeared as a cute kid was now looking quite scary, and what she first believed to be a good idea was now proving to be one of the worst decisions she'd ever made. Eyeing the small crowd gathered outside the fence, the girl groaned internally at Sasabe's stupidity and her own poor judgment.

_Cling!_

Barely dodging the last serve, Sasabe muttered out a curse. '_That bastard's aiming at me!'_

"40-0"

Sasabe felt his body chill. He watched as the body across from him pulled taunt, preparing to launch in the air. Cold, dark eyes finally lifted from beneath the shadow of the white cap to glare across the court, taking in his shivering form.

"Eat this."

Eyes wide, the terrified boy scampered backwards. "…! N-_no_!"

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_Whump_

_._

"Idiot"

'_That rascal,'_ the pink-garbed lady mused fondly. It was a perfectly straight lob, something even her granddaughter should be able to return. Too bad the girl on the court had Sasabe so scared that he was shivering on the ground with his eyes closed, racket held tightly in front of him.

It was Ryoma's complete victory.

"Game set!"

"…"

"She won," Sakuno whispered. Her grandmother grunted and smirked.

What a cocky brat.

"You bastard! Wait!" Sasabe ran after the shorter player. "I never said it was one set only! Let's play one more! I'll definitely beat you-"

"If you're a real man, you should accept defeat with grace," the lady cut in. Any further embarrassment would just be cruel. And if anything, the Echizen family knew how to be vindictive when exacting their revenge. "No matter how many times you play, you'll never beat Echizen Ryoma!"

"What did you say you old hag?" Sasabe turned towards the woman with a mad glare in his eyes. There's no way he was going to leave the score settled like this!

"It's fine," Ryoma said calmly while moving back in position. "I don't mind."

"That's right! Give me your best shot!

…

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…What?"

.

Sasabe and his friends stared in horror as the kid switched hands.

_._

"Ryoma's left-handed," the grandmother smiled good-naturedly. "Until now, she's been playing with her weaker hand."

No, she mused darkly, the tournament really wouldn't have been enough to stop Echizen Ryoma. Nor apparently, she slid a sly glance at her granddaughter, was being late and disqualified. Sighing, she smiled softly at the small injured girl making her way towards her with determination in every step.

Never again was she going to make a bet with another Echizen again!

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_Few days later, Seigaku Middle School Admission Day_

_._

"Sakuno!"

A young girl with twin braids in a sailor outfit turned her head while holding her bag and a tennis racket incased in its bag.

"Tomoka!"

Sakuno stopped by the school entrance, waiting for her friend to catch up.

"I heard that an awesome guy is joining the tennis club!"

"Eh?"

"Never mind. Are you going to play tennis Sakuno?"

"Yeah!"

The two girls passed by a dozing figure beneath a sakura tree. Dressed in a dark uniform, a white cap rested on a book bag next to the student propped up against the tree.

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It's the start of an intriguing new semester at Seishun Gakuen*.

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**End Genius 001**

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**Notes:**

* In Japanese and many other Asian languages, the family name comes before the given name. Technically then, "Echizen Ryoma" should be written either as "Ryoma Echizen" or "Echizen, Ryoma" in English, but the grammatically correct version of the name somehow feels restricting and imposing. I will therefore be writing the last name first, without a comma in _Genius_. Also, as a future note, it is uncommon for someone to be addressed by their first name unless they are rather close to each other. To do so is an insult because there is an implied familiarity or lack of respect. There are thus many forms of honorifics to be acknowledged and they are very important in showing the relationship between two characters. Please pay close attention to these subtleties.

* In Japanese, it isn't always clear whether someone is saying "he" or "she," meaning, you aren't always able to tell the gender. I'm going to use "she" for those who know her true gender, and "he" for those who don't. I'll try to make it as less confusing as possible. Also, there are feminine and masculine forms of the word "I," but you can often leave the word out in a sentence since it is assumed you are talking about yourself (such as "I'll be back later" versus "Be back later," but in even more cases in Japanese). However, for those concerned, imagine that I'll be having Ryoma say "boku" or "ore," a masculine form of the word, for those situations where she has to say "I," as a manifestation of her tomboy ways or as a cover-up.

* "Gakuen" literally translates to "school." The name of the school is often shortened to "Seigaku," taking the first syllable from each word. They are interchangeable, so please don't be confused by the references.

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A/N: Hi! This is probably one of the longest pieces of writing I've ever written in one go. It's also the first time I've attempted to write action, so I'm not that confident on how well my writing style works. Most of the credit for the scenes go to the original manga however. I'm just not that creative or knowledgeable of tennis.

As you've noticed, Ryoma is female in this work of fiction. I like from-the-beginning stories, and I wanted to imagine how the series work if Ryoma was a girl. Well, more like I wasn't sure how else to start from the beginning. Again, I'm not really all that creative, haha. This is a starting point from where I build "Genius."

Please be kind. I look forward to finishing this project with everyone. Thank you.


	3. Genius 002: A Suspicious Child Appears

Wintersalad │ Disclaimer: I do not own "Prince of Tennis" or any referenced translations. │ Written: 09/10/10 │ Posted: 09/11/10│ Last Edited: 05/01/11

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**Genius 002: A Suspicious Child Appears**

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_Yaw~n!_

A small hand reached out from the black sleeves of the school uniform and moved to rub crusty eyes from beneath dark bangs. Walking away from her classroom, Echizen Ryoma glared blearily at the school sandals she was wearing.

'_It's too big…'_

Shifting her bag higher upon her shoulder, she shuffled past several students. School in Japan was different from the U.S., but on both sides of the world, it was still difficult to stay awake through class.

"Hey! Echizen!"

Sniffling, Ryoma turned her head and waited where she stood. She watched as a boy who eerily resembled a monkey walk up to her, a tennis racket case tucked neatly beneath his shoulder.

"You're Echizen from my class, right? I'm Horio. I see your tennis bag," he pointed to the bag slung across Ryoma's back. "You're signing up for the tennis club?"

Ryoma sighed and nodded. Another not-so-significant person who appeared to be attached to her after a few minutes of acquaintance. Well…maybe not just yet, she considered as she glanced notably at the racket tucked snugly to his side. Hmm…

Tuning him out, she walked towards the exit and straight up to a tall second-year student. She only recalled her classmate due to his loud posturing and unique unibrow. It was rather hard not to notice his loud introduction in class. Stopping before her target, she ignored Horio as she asked, "Which way is the tennis court?"

"Huh? Tennis court? It's that way, that way." The second-year jerked his thumb in the right direction.

"Thank you," she listlessly responded as she walked away.

"Aw, don't mention it!"

The second-year watched as the two first-years walked away in the direction he pointed towards. Smirking, he whistled as he walked in the opposite direction, hands behind his head.

He loved being a sempai1!

Limping slightly, he leaned his weight away from his injured ankle. Leaning against the fence of the tennis courts he tilted his head back to look at the clear blue skies. He watched as the clouds drifted sluggishly across the celestial plains. Ah, taking it easy sure looked relaxing.

Too bad he just couldn't seem to relax.

Pushing forward with his elbows, the second-year limped towards the club room. He needed to get his act together if he wanted to keep his regular position on the tennis team this year. Getting injured at the beginning of the year! Sure, it beat getting injured right before a game or some other such nonsense, but he shouldn't have been injured in the first place! An athlete needed to take care of his body! Slamming the door open, he walked towards his locker to change. The other regulars were away today, so he might as well take advantage of the free courts. Practice a few light drills while no one was around and stuff.

Sighing, he slumped and covered his face with his change of clothes. Really, just what was he doing?

Dressed in a Rocket Dive t-shirt, the depressed young man closed the club room door lightly behind him. He leaned his back towards the door with his weight pressed against the handle. With his eyes closed, he listened to the soothing sounds of a tennis ball being hit across the courts.

Wait.

Dark eyes opened and focused on the source of sounds. There! That just now wasn't the nice, clean sound of a bouncing ball on cement floors! The sounds of the racket stopped and the second-year walked towards the occupied court where two of his fellow club members crowded around four firsties. Heh. Was he ever that tiny?

_Oh-hoh~_ Looks like somebody likes being a sempai even more than him.

"500 yen* per try? What the heck? You said it was 200 per person!" a funny guy with a unibrow and bad fashion sense exclaimed.

"Hey, hey, we never said that. Ten tries at hitting the can for 10,000 yen, 500 yen per try- the 200 yen is the starting fee," one of the second-years smirked while turning the can towards their audience to see the hidden fine print.

"This is swindling! What kind of rule is that? You never even mentioned that each try cost us money!"

"Hahahaha!" the two older students mocked. "Too bad! If you knocked it down, you could've gotten 10,000 yen! But…

.

Hey you! Over there!"

.

They all turned to look at a petite figure standing behind the fence with a tennis bag hefted on the right shoulder.

"Don't just watch safely from over there! Come over and try it out for yourself. That's not the way you go about making friends, you know?"

Half-lidded eyes slid towards the two mean figures. Sifting a hand through dark locks, the addressed first-year tousled the hair while turning to face away from them. After a few seconds of what appeared to be morbid contemplation, the teen turned back towards the people in the court waiting for a response. Shrugging, the first-year stepped through the gates.

"It's not that I can't…" the student drawled while leaning down towards a basket of tennis balls to pick up a few with a left-hand. "But hitting that can over there normally wouldn't work.

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…Probably because it has rocks in it?"

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"What?"

They all watched as the tiny body launched itself into the air and twist into the ideal position before swinging forth with the racket in full motion.

"Ah! He pin-pointed it to the top of the can!" exclaimed the shortest of the first-years gathered around the sidelines.

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_Tinkle_

_._

"Wah! What the hell is this?" the loudest of the three shouted. "Not only did you omit important details in terms of payment, but you also stuffed the can full of rocks? That's cheating!"

The two sophomores flinched back and gulped. "Tsk. What is that little brat doing?" one of the two nervously bit out. "We didn't even tell him to do that!"

_Clack_

_Clack_

_._

_Clack!_

_._

"…!"

All the gathered spectators stared, speechless, as the recently joined member on the court continued to smack the now mostly empty can around the court.

.

"Hey, if I hit it 100 times, does that mean I get 1,000,000 yen?"

.

"That little-!"

_Crankle!_

_._

"Oh! I hit it! Luc_ky_!"

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"Ah! That guy from before!" Horio cried. "The one who gave us the wrong directions!"

Ryoma glanced at the second-year with shortly cropped hair who just stepped onto the court.

"Momoshiro, you…" one of the two second-years stuttered.

"Hayashi and Ikeda, just because none of the third-years are here today, doesn't mean that you should pick on your kouhai*. You shouldn't do that, shouldn't do that!"

The two paled and hastily mumbled their apologies. There was a considerable amount of noise as the first-years gained confidence at having a strong ally suddenly appear and they stumbled over themselves to give their greetings. Horio, however, appeared slightly miffed still at the earlier slight. What was he saying? He was picking on them just a while ago! Merry laughter and remarks echoed through the courts as the new acquaintances exchanged formalities while the old did their best to blend into the background, trying to deflect as much attention away from them as possible.

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"Hey, who said you could leave?"

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Everyone on the court stilled and looked as Momoshiro stared down Echizen. With back turned towards the others, Echizen's head tilted to the side to give a side-glance at the second-year who pulled the stupid stunt earlier. Ignoring him, the first-year stuffed the pockets of the new school uniform with calloused hands and walked towards the exit face down.

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"Ryo-Ryoma?"

.

The two looked up to see a girl with twin braids gasp at Echizen Ryoma. Why was Ryoma wearing a male uniform?

"Oh-hoh," Momoshiro smirked. "So _you're_ that Echizen Ryoma. There's no use for the eye if you can't see the vision.

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I'm Momoshiro Takeshi! Second-year!"

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**End Genius 002**

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**Notes:**

* The school systems in Japan are different than the U.S., but I'll try to keep it simple for those who are unfamiliar by just going with their years. "Sempai" is used for older students who are senior to younger students and "kouhai" is for the juniors of the older students.

* An easy way to convert yen to dollars is to simply divide by 100 (move the decimal two places over to the left). It's not an accurate conversion, but it's close enough to get the general idea of value. So the swindling game was for a prize of roughly $100 (10,000 yen). The second-years advertised it with a starter's fee of $2 (200 yen), but the game had a hidden cost of $5 per try (500 yen) that they failed to mention to the first-years. Ryoma asked if she hit the can 100 times, then if she would get $10,000 (1,000,000 yen).

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A/N: Not much action in this chapter. I'm sure some have already noticed, but the chapters go according to the chapters in the manga, so the length and content of each are generally dictated by the original manga. Even the titles are basically a direct quote, more or less. I got a really considerate and helpful review and I'll be keeping the advice I received in mind. Please continue to kindly critique my writing! Thank you!


	4. Genius 003: 1st Year vs 2nd Year

Wintersalad │ Disclaimer: I do not own "Prince of Tennis" or any referenced translations. │ Written: 09/12/10 │ Posted: 09/12/10 │ Last Edited: 05/01/11

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**Genius 003: 1st Year vs. 2nd Year**

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A girl with high pigtails rocked on the tips of her feet. Hands clutched tightly against her mouth, she smiled as her eyes sparkled with enthusiasm. What a great find! That boy was _so_ cool! Her grin widened as the thought of creating a fan club solidified and she turned towards her friend.

"Hey, Sakuno, do you really know that guy?"

"H-huh? Um… yeah, a little…," the twin-braided girl replied with a troubled frown.

Was there a special reason that Ryoma needed to dress as a boy…? Normally, school regulations would make sure she wore the correct uniform, right? Why… no _how_ did she go through the trouble of dodging the system? Sakuno remembered mistaking Ryoma for a boy the first time (and second time) they met. It wasn't that she looked or sounded masculine per say, but there was definitely an air to her that one wouldn't expect from a typical girl. A strong sense of purpose? A reckless single-mindedness? It was hard to describe. And it wasn't as if she knew enough about her to accurately pinpoint the feeling. Biting her lip, Sakuno pondered the consequences if Ryoma's secret should be revealed. Maybe she should keep quiet before she learned about the circumstances...?

'_Lucky, lucky!'_ Tomoka mentally cheered, ignorant of her friend's inner turmoil. _'First dibs, get!'_

Tugging on her wrist guards, the subject of the two's thoughts stood up from the ground in her change of t-shirt and shorts. Wiping the dirt from her clothes, she popped her white cap and placed it over her dark locks.

"Hold on, Momoshiro!" one of the two second-years called out. "You can't- mmph!"

Momoshiro smothered the words out with a hand placed over his mouth. With a wink, he turned towards the court, "So? I won't tell that, if you won't tell~"

Walking towards the small first-year across the net, Momoshiro looked into dark amber eyes, "I heard from the old lady counselor that you know the twist-serve?"

"What? Really?" Horio asked with wide eyes. The two other freshmen, Katsuko and Kachiro, turned puzzled eyes between the two.

"That's right, that's right," Momoshiro smiled. "Unlike the usual slice, which turns left, the twist-serve bounds when there is a top-spin, meaning the ball flies straight into you face! Oh~ Scary, scary!"

To the side, the two freshmen girls joined the rest of the spectators. They'd been going to register for the girls' tennis club, but Tomoka was all in favor of doing that later so that she may watch this impromptu match, dragging a still dazed Sakuno behind her. '_I don't really get it, but it must be something amazing. It's probably what Ryoma used against that high school student last time,' _thought the twin-tailed girl. She watched worriedly at the scene, wishing her grandma was here to explain things and mediate between what looked to be another battle. It would appear that her new (self-appointed) friend was a definite trouble-magnet.

"There aren't many-"

"Hurry up and start the match," Ryoma interrupted. She glared at Momoshiro beneath her shadowed dark bangs. What was his game? Was he trying to pick a fight? She felt like the second-year was purposely provoking her. Why else would he be giving incorrect directions and then showing off his pin-pointing skills, before sniffing after her techniques?

Grinning, entirely unfazed and unabashed, Momoshiro asked, "Which side?"

Narrowing her eyes at his grin, she replied, "Smooth."

Hands in pocket, the second-year smirked. Spinning his racket by the handle on the ground, he watched as it fell on its side, landing on its back instead of the front. "Too bad, it's rough," he reported. He grinned wider. "But I'll let you serve. I want to hurry up and see that serve!"

Ryoma twitched. That-! Inwardly growling, she reflected on what she saw from this guy already. It was obvious that though he was a second-year just like the other two swindlers, he held some authority or sway around the tennis club that the other second-years did not. A regular perhaps. Which meant that he was probably exceptionally strong, becoming a regular without waiting until his third-year. Also, he didn't just showcase his pin-pointing skills earlier when knocking the can, but his physical power as well in being able to crush a can filled with rocks (though she took credit for having knocked most of them out already).

"I'll be taking this side," the subject of Ryoma's musings called out, snapping her out of her daze.

.

That was when she noticed his limp.

.

It was barely there and really, some may even say she imagined it, but she instinctively recognized this all-too-familiar situation. His ankle was injured. And just like that, the anticipation she had for the match, the anticipation she refused to acknowledge ever existed, disappeared as she fully embraced the ever-growing anger within her. She was being underestimated, _again! _

"The best of one set! Echizen service play!"

Sakuno wondered if Ryoma was feeling alright. The Ryoma before her now looked as if she were in pain. Now that she thought about it, the pain was present last time she watched Ryoma play as well, but the shadow in her eyes was less noticeable than the mocking grin upon her lips then. Today, her face was tight and closed.

It felt cold.

"Awesome! He's really good in tennis!" Tomoka jostled Sakuno. "Let's cheer for him, Sakuno! Cheer!" She emphasized it with a jab of her elbows as she raised both her voice and arms in the air.

"Ah, haha… yea," Sakuno replied weakly.

.

She had just missed the ace Ryoma played, but somehow, she felt like she had already missed too much.

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"I refuse the slice serve." Momoshiro stared down at the younger player across from him. Pouting, he whined, "Don't be so stingy."

Watching him out of the corner of her eyes, Ryoma tilted her cap forward.

"I don't want to be generous to you."

'_Arrogant much?'_ Momoshiro slumped. _Ah-h._ Maybe he was losing his charm?

"15-0"

_Plunk_

_Plunk_

Ryoma shifted her weight. At four-foot, eleven, she needed to compensate for her lack of power on serves by bending further, and she'd need all the power she could get with this guy. Dropping herself, she propelled herself into the air and swung forward.

_Pluck!_

"…!"

_Tshshshsh!_

Momoshiro, though startled, widened his eyes and took stance to return the sudden twist-serve Ryoma sent him, but it was too late.

The ball blew away his racket.

"Amazing! That's the twist-serve?"

As the gallery voiced their excitement, Momoshiro bent down to retrieve his racket. Though his reaction was delayed this time, at least he managed to avoid being hit in the face. "Scary, scary…" he mumbled.

"Are you hurt?"

Momoshiro moved his eyes towards the cocky brat. Hmph.

"30-0"

Ryoma gazed dispassionately at the unfolding events. Detached, she analyzed the situation. Really, it's always the same isn't it? Sighing, she served another twist. _'Even if you go after it when it spins, you won't be able to hit it back.' _She mentally admonished as he went up front._ 'Timing doesn't overcome the spin's power.'_

"Game 1-0! Echizen leads!"

"No way! Momoshiro is a regular!"

She glanced sideways at the person who confirmed her suspicions, before returning her attention back to the game. Though the outcome was clear, she wouldn't return the same disrespect by underestimating her sempai. She narrowed her almond-shaped eyes. He was starting to receive her serves. But...

She risked a glance at his face to trace the confident look of his face in her mind, overlaying his image with countless others.

The relaxed tips of the eyebrows.

The unwavering gaze of the eyes.

The slight uplift corner around the lips.

.

And with a smothered sigh, she closed her eyes to the world.

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_Pock!_

_Pock!_

_Pock! _

_._

_Pluck_

_._

Ryoma listened for the tell-tale drop of the ball on Momoshiro's side of the net. At the soft roll it gave, she gave a small smile.

"D-Drop volley? You-! You know how to do that too?"

"…"

Ryoma opened her eyes as she straightened back up. Though surprised, the annoying second-year was already getting up and into position for the next play.

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Ryoma didn't like the stubborn look in his eyes.

.

Sakuno tuned out the fervent ravings of her friend besides her. They were arguing about who was stronger, but frankly, she could care less at the moment. Right now, all she saw was the slumped back of her friend as she bent her head further forward, her cap nearly covering her entire face. The air around her looked thick and suffocating. A choking black.

Ryoma switched the racket to her left hand.

"…!"

Momoshiro widened his eyes and hurriedly shouted, "Wait! Time!" He looked straight into the Echizen's eyes, well, his cap really since he couldn't see the kid's shadowed eyes, and smirked. "That's enough. Let's stop here."

"What?-!" Everyone around the court shouted.

"Momoshiro! What are you saying?"

"Haha," the tall teen sheepishly laughed. Was it just him, or did the kid just glare at him? Well, harder at least. Shrugging it off, he said to the figure across from him, "I'll let you off with this, heh!"

He watched as the first-year still for a moment, before he took off to the side of the court where his stuff was. He didn't bother to change and just brusquely grabbed his things and walked out. The freshmen all gathered around him, in a festive mood, but it didn't appear as if the center of their attention was interested. He watched with interest at the brooding back and blank face of the audacious first-year who dared to play him with a handicap.

"Momo…" his fellow year-mates started. "You sure this is a good idea? I get that your ankle is injured, but letting them off with this is…the first-years will completely disregard the authority of us second-years."

"Look at them. They don't even know you're letting them off easy. They're leaving, thinking it's a draw."

"No…" The two turned back to look at Momoshiro. "He knew.

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He knew from the beginning."

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'_I completely forgot what the lady counselor told me. To play a match against a sempai with the opposite hand, the brat must have been looking out for me.'_

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**End Genius 003**

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A/N: I know many are waiting for some major deviations from the original plot, but I'm sorry to ask for more time as I establish the foundation for this fanfic first. Most of the changes I will be making center around Ryoma being a female and why she chooses to hide her gender. All other changes then follow. It will be subtle, at least at first, such as in this chapter, instead of Ryoma "looking after" Momoshiro like in the original series, Ryoma is actually "_going_ after" Momoshiro. Momoshiro hasn't caught on to Ryoma's true feelings in the match.

Do please continue to give me your feedback however as I continue to post new chapters. I do read all reviews and consider them, so if it appears that what I am trying to achieve isn't working or receiving any response, I will take the advice given to me and make the necessary changes. Please give me a chance to work it out first however. Thank you.

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**Genius 003: Extra**

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"Hey there!" Tomoka ran up to the handsome silent stranger. "I'm Osakada Tomoka, a friend of Sakuno's!" Though said with a passionate fervor, a shy blush tinted across her cheeks and her hands were clasped modestly before her. Sakuno smiled timidly and walked up behind her outgoing friend, biting her lip slightly in nervousness, waiting to be acknowledged.

"Who…

…is Sakuno?"

Sakuno's face blanched with shock.

_Later that night, Echizen residence_

"Ryoma, how was the tennis club?"

The girl winced as she took off her chest bindings. It wasn't painful to say, since she didn't really have much in way of breasts just yet, but the material cut into her skin and so it stung. She glanced towards the door which her cousin left open in retrieving her clothes.

"Karupin," she admonished her fluffy cat. "You can't come in here."

Pouting, the small feline sat back on its hunches and waited by the door. Smiling, she turned back to rinse off. Touching her hair, she realized with a start who Sakuno was.

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The girl with the ridiculous hair.

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Mood darkening, she brought her hands forward from her short locks and looked at them with half-lidded eyes. Karupin gave a pitiful mewl.

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"Made made dane."


	5. Genius 004: A Declaration of War

Wintersalad │ Disclaimer: I do not own "Prince of Tennis" or any referenced translations. │ Written: 09/12/10 │ Posted: 09/13/10 │ Last Edited: 05/04/11

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_Seishun Gakuen, Teacher's Lounge_

"Echizen Nanjiro…"

A lady with her streaked hair tied back in a ponytail leaned back in her chair. Gazing at a photo album, she turned the page to an old class photo.

"He could've changed Japan's tennis if only he didn't sustain that injury… The Grand Slam wouldn't have been just a dream…"

Closing the book, she sighed. Smiling with her eyes closed, she folded it upon her lap.

"Twenty-five years since he graduated and ended my headaches…

It must be fate that his child has come here to me with a whole new set of problems!"

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**Genius 004: A Declaration of War**

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_Pock_

_._

_He ran towards her with his shit-eating grin pasted wide on his face._

_._

_Pock_

_._

"_Horya!" _

_Dark green tresses glinted in the sun as his lithe figure jumped up front, blocking all the light. All she saw was a growing black form as he descended upon her, his figure all that she could see. His form all that she wanted to see._

_His darkness consumed her world._

_And he smashed the ball. Right next to her feet._

_._

_So she stumbled._

_._

_._

_Pock_

_._

"_What are you doing, Chibisuke?"_

"-zen!"

_Pock_

Blinking, dusty amber eyes looked up from beneath a white cap. They slowly took in the face looking down at her in confusion. What was she doing…?

"Echizen! Are you even listening to me?" Horio asked with a perplexed frown. Really! And he was doing the favor of looking out for him! Echizen shouldn't get a big head over playing evenly with that sempai when the second-year injured his ankle! What would he do if he ended up on bad terms with the second-years…?

Continuing, he looked back at the playing members on the court. "But the level sure is high here at Seigaku. The regulars aren't even here yet…"

Ryoma tuned him out and stared out at the courts. Really, was there someone like this everywhere? Shaking out the wool gathered in her mind, she gingerly got up from her seat on the ground and rolled her shoulders. That stupid old man was really into it this morning…

Walking away from the gathering first-years, the tiny freshman moved towards the entrance. It's better to stay away from that type, she mused idly. Seeing a pair of feet in front of her, she stopped and looked up to see a second-year with his nearly shoulder-length hair held back by a headband. She blinked at him.

"Are you that so-called 'Great First Year'?" he asked with a menacing look to his eyes.

Yup. Definitely best to stay away.

Shaking her head, she turned silently to point at the bunch of first-years.

"Hm? How obvious. All the first years are crowding around him. He's the only one wearing a weird shirt and jumping around," he remarked as Horio continued to loudly boast. Without another word, the second-year strode over to the group. Ryoma regarded the proceedings with a tired interest, only bothered enough to pick up relevant details about the ranking matches. So there's never been a first-year regular to be allowed in the regulars huh? The stranded first-year tilted her white cap, hiding her expression.

"Th-there they come! The regulars!"

Quickly, the youth turned to face the incoming students. There were five, each with a regular jersey on and their racket bags slung over a shoulder. The first in line looked perpetually angry, with his lips pursed and eyebrows creased. The next two were one with glasses and shortly cropped hair and one with neatly buzzed hair, leaving two strands out front, rather reminiscent of an insect's feelers. Standing close to Mr. Insect was a handsome man with curled hair and a bandage across his right cheek. As the group walked closer, the last in line appeared from behind with a smile and creased eyes.

And his calm, carefree smile placed Ryoma on an edge.

As the last of the regulars passed by, the first-year kept narrowed eyes straight forward. Behind the still figure, the young man with light hazel hair smiled just a fraction larger. He wondered at the sudden animosity he felt from the stranger he just passed by. Interesting.

As the vice-captain welcomed the new freshmen by opening up the courts until the captain arrived, the smiling regular kept the short figure in sight out of the corner of his eyes. No need to alert the tense child to his captured interest after all. Tilting his head forward to hide the sharp anticipation in his eyes with soft locks of hair, he smiled at his vice-captain and asked for a friendly game. As they proceeded to practice smashing returns to a basket, he reached out with whatever senses he could spare to keep tabs on his potential new toy. Teasing his fellow regular teammates had gotten pretty routine and dry lately.

"Fuji, your steps are too slow."

Smirking, Fuji opened his eyes slightly to glance back at the teen he knew was behind him. Knowing his practice partner would send the ball back to within his reach, he increased his speed subtly to step forward from the area the ball was sure to land in.

"Oops. That's a bit too high."

Eyes open, Fuji watched with a smile as the short figure executed the perfect timing to return the ball with pin-point accuracy, without ever lifting a foot from the spot. Maybe he planned it a little too well…? Well, as he watched toned muscles flex to make a beautiful jump in the air, he decided it didn't really matter.

"Eh, it doesn't seem that hard."

Creasing his eyes in approval, Fuji smiled with amusement at the issued challenge. Suspicious, Ryoma increased the intensity of her stare, hoping to figure out what it was about this boy that warned her senses. It was not yet to the point of glaring, as she was trying to maintain a nonchalant air, but she was definitely on guard. Mutual interest at this point was definitely acknowledged, but not mutually appreciated in the same respects.

"You punk! I was right all along!" Arai ran forward to fist the front of the bold freshman's shirt. "You're the kid that played Momoshiro!" Fuji paused in his humoring as he processed this information. So this is the child everyone was talking about. "This is no place for a first-year to be showing off!"

"What is the meaning of this on the courts?"

Everyone turned their attention to the new addition. Dressed in a regular jersey with his bag slung over his left shoulder, his slick locks danced in the light breeze as he pushed his glasses closer to his face.

"Ca-Captain!"

The now identified member of the regular tennis team glared at the two figures blocking his path. "The two of you, ten laps around the court for causing a disturbance on the courts."

"What? Wait! It's beca-"

"Twenty laps!"

"…!" Arai, staggered. "Yes captain!"

"…"

Fuji noticed with interest the bored light that entered into his new toy's eyes at the exchange before it sharpened when the child again noticed his attentions. He smiled slyly with slit eyes. Shouldn't the captain be worth taking interest in over a yet unknown club member? As the upper-classmen moved to the courts and the freshmen moved to pick up the balls, Fuji ignored the frightened glances his fellow teammates gave him as he kept his gaze on the child running around the courts with an angry Arai on his tail.

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Haha, what an amusing new toy he's found indeed!

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**End Genius 004**

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A/N: Some parts of Ryoma's mysteries and reasons were revealed this chapter. Can you guess who she was thinking about at the beginning of the chapter? It's really not a difficult guess:)


	6. Genius 005: The Dusty Racket

Wintersalad │ Disclaimer: I do not own "Prince of Tennis" or any referenced translations. │ Written: 09/15/10 │ Posted: 9/15/10 │ Last Edited: 05/04/11

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**Genius 005: The Dusty Racket**

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Katsuo glanced back in his seat, annoyed at the breathy yawn that sounded for the seventh time this morning. He furrowed his eyebrows in confusion as his line of sight met with the drowsy-eyed first-year who stood out in his memory as a talented and bold tennis player. Though the lackadaisical air about him always seemed to hang around his shoulders, the small boy seemed to be too tired for someone who just started their first semester. Though the young athlete obviously had to be fit, his face seemed too pale and his body seemed too slim. Whenever Katsuo noticed him outside of the tennis club, the boy would either be napping or looking for a nap.

"Mizuno-san! Echizen-san! Is there any particular reason that the two of you decided to have a staring contest in the middle of my class?"

Brought out of his stupor, Katsuo blinked with horror as he finally noticed the intent gaze of dark golden eyes on him. As red reached his ears, Katsuo swiftly turned to face the front, embarrassed at having been caught rudely staring by not only the teacher, but Echizen as well. Just how long had he been staring?

As the class ended and everyone started packing, he noticed Echizen move deftly out of the room. Didn't they have club practice after this? Where was he going without them?

…Though now that he thought about it, he wasn't even sure Echizen knew they were in the same class together until today. His head drooped down as he pondered over the past few days. He couldn't recall a single instance where Echizen had shown an interest in the first-years. Though there was that girl, Ryuzaki Sakuno…he blushed.

"Why are you so red, Katsuo?" Horio asked as they changed in the club room. "Aren't you going to change?"

Blinking, Katsuo wondered what was wrong with him today. He was caught daydreaming twice already! He wondered how and when exactly they arrived at the club room. Echizen appeared to have already changed and was sitting on the locker bench, tugging on his laces. He narrowed his eyes at the thin limbs sticking out of the boy's attire. Really, whether Echizen acknowledged his existence or not, he'd better start making sure he was eating lunch properly. Goodness knows Horio couldn't care less and Kachiro was too star-struck to say much of anything besides praises.

"Gah! You're sitting on Arai-sempai's jacket!"

Ryoma stopped her movements to glance down to where she sat. "Ah... So?" She watched as Horio increased his dramatic movement to emphasize the magnitude of the current problem. "Arai-sempai's already out to get you! He seems to really believe in the seniority system1 and you totally disregarded everything about it! What are you going to do when he finds out you not only messed up his jacket, but _sat_ on it?"

Sighing, Ryoma sighed and closed her eyes while getting up. She had enough on her mind already, enough to lose sleep over, and Arai just simply didn't even reach the radar of her worries. Hearing a slight snap, she opened her eyes to look at the floor to see a racket beneath her foot. Eyes widening, she quickly stepped back to lift her foot off and bent forward to reach for it.

"That's a really old racket," one of the three freshmen said.

She should really start making an effort in remembering their names if they were going to insist on hanging around her so much.

Turning the handle over, Ryoma inspected the racket. The frame was heavily battered and the strings were loose. Smoothing her hands over the dusty frame, she eyed the racket with an offended air, sprinkled with a bit of sadness. Who would leave a racket on the floor and in such a poor state?

"Eh, well, it's a good thing it isn't Arai-sempai's or you'd really be getting it from him," Horio scratched the tip of his nose. "Anyways, let's go. Just leave the racket. Today's practice for first-years is a marathon. I, for one, am confident about running, hehe-

Eck!"

There was a soft thump as the loud freshman bumped into the taller body of Arai. "Watch it, you monkey!"

With mouth pursed in distaste, Echizen laid the racket against the corner behind the lockers. Stepping away from the bench, the teen tugged the customary white cap over dark bangs, shading closed eyes while walking past the second-year. "Yo."

"Tch!"

What the hell was that kind of greeting?-! Fuming, Arai glared one last time at the retreating backs of the first-year entourage before walking in the club room.

"That's the kid? The cocky first-year who showed you up in front of the captain and club?" asked a fellow second-year who entered in with Arai.

"Yeah. I'm not going to let that brat get-

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_Ah-h!_ Who…Who messed up my clothes?-!"

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They all turned their attention to the mussed-up clothing sitting on the bench with wariness. Arai and his temper...

"Dammit! Nothing's going right around here! Did you see his attitude? That "Echizen Ryoma" brat! I'm going crazy here! And I even overheard one of the kid's friends talking about going against the captain! Ugh!" Arai grabbed his uniform and crumbled it in his hands before making a motion to throw it against the floor, stopping just short of doing so, and moving to sit heavily upon the bench instead in a frustrated, angry manner.

"Hey, you don't think they're going to go for the ranking matches right? I mean, I heard he was good, so he might even get a spot before us…"

"Shut up! What the hell is that bullshit?-!" Arai bit out. "There's no way that I'm going to let that pass!"

Unsettled, one of the second-years glanced around the room. If Arai was left steaming without an outlet, things could get dangerous. Spotting something that might just work to distract his friend, he called their attention, "Hey, isn't this Echizen's?" The group of second-years gathered around the locker. "Woah, look at this! The smart-ass's got three rackets even though he's just a freshman! That punk!" He could understand a little why Arai disliked the kid so quickly.

"…" Arai stared at the rackets in his friends' hands with a calculating gleam in his eyes. Glancing towards the side, he smirked as he spotted something interesting.

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"Hey guys…give it here. I've got an idea..."

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Arai and his friends watched as the freshmen finished their laps, collapsing to the ground with heavy breaths and sweat. Well, all except for the target of their attentions. They grinned, knowing that the next exercise was swinging practice. And being the oh-so-kind sempai's that they were, they've brought one for Echizen who'd left his rackets behind.

"Oy, Echizen. Did you forget to bring your racket?"

Looking back, the small first-year replied, "Not really…"

"You sure have guts freshman," Arai drawled as he walked towards the first-years. "Not bringing your racket for practice! Are you trying to skimp out just because the captain and vice-captain aren't here?"

Eyebrows raised, the addressed freshman turned to look up at the lanky teen. Ignoring his jibes, the freshman gazed with interest at the wrinkled jacket the sophomore was wearing. Miffed at being scolded for what appeared to have been an irrelevant concern, the short tennis club member was about to turn to look for Horio when Arai issued his challenge.

"If you're that confident, let's have a match since we're at practice anyways. But since you don't have a racket…"

"Arai!"

The sophomore turned to catch what was thrown to him. "Oh right! Use this one!" He tossed the battered racket left in the club room to Echizen.

"That's-!" Horio started.

"How could anyone play with that?" Someone by the freshman's side continued. "The frame even makes a weird clattering sound…"

"So, are you going to play? Mr. Big-shot?" Arai sneered.

"Ah-h, Arai's bullying the first-years again…," an observing third-year sang as he scratched the plaster on his cheek. "Just look at the way he talks..."

"What should we do?" another asked, pushing up his glasses as he closed a notebook to focus on the situation at hand. "Should we stop him?"

"The captain and vice-captain will be here soon. The captain's not going to let this go when he sees."

Behind the two, Fuji slowly opened his eyes and grinned. "Yeah…" Oh, how lovely the little freshman looked with smoldering eyes! And another test so soon, without his initiative! Aqua eyes watched with amusement as Arai continued to goad the tiny first-year. Really, what an annoying little fly he is. Ah, but oh well, he performed well in coming up with such an interesting show for him to witness, so he'll forgive the second-year this time around. Though Fuji didn't confirm the child's qualifications fully just yet, he felt certain that the little one will meet his expectations, so it was perfectly permissible for him to feel possessive of his teasing rights over the child.

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"Hahaha!" Arai cackled. "If you comply, maybe those three precious rackets will come out!"

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"…!"

Fuji noted the sudden sharp streak in the child's eyes. His grin dimmed as he considered the implications of Arai's statement and the first-year's reaction.

"H-hey! Echizen! Where are you going?"

Sighing, the subject of everyone's attention replied, "There are some weaklings who can only think of dirty methods to play."

"…" The smile was gone from both his face and eyes as Fuji steadied his gaze on the tense back of a small child marching towards the court. Though no accusation was vocalized, he read the allegation written loudly across a clouded face and clenched hands. Feet planted apart and shoulders thrown back, fury and determination screamed at him.

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Yet louder than all the screams of rage and resolve was the whispers of resignation and hurt.

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"Hurry up.

Let's do this."

Taking in the charged form in front of him once more, Fuji pushed for calm and creased his eyes and smiled.

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"Let's see how this turns out, haha."

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**End Genius 005**

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A/N: So I probably won't be able to update as quickly and regularly as I have, but I will strive to post at least one chapter per week, hopefully two. I'm still trying to balance out my time and the current one isn't working too well. I rushed the first few chapters in order to meet expectations for a story that's not just a script-version of the manga. I'll slowly reveal more parts of the foundation of this story as the chapters go on. The differences will show more clearly as the story develops. For now, it's still really just the introduction, but hopefully I've helped ease everyone in.

Again, I greatly appreciate and anticipate reviews from everyone. They give me feedback on how I'm doing and how I should proceed. Thank you for your support.


	7. Genius 006: Irony

Wintersalad │ Disclaimer: I do not own "Prince of Tennis" or any referenced translations. │ Written: 09/18/10 │ Posted: 09/18/10│ Last Edited: 05/04/11

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**Genius 006: Irony**

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_Pwong_

_Whump_

"…"

Smirking, Arai fixed his headband higher before sliding his free hand into the pocket of his shorts. His body was tingling with anticipation. Moving his eyes around the courts, he took in the small gallery of observers and preened. Relaxing his shoulders back, he rested his racket over one as he made a show of tapping his foot impatiently. With a mocking lilt to his voice, he asked the target of this afternoon's entertainment, "Hey, what's wrong? Where'd that big attitude of yours go? Can't you even be responsible enough for the big words you used earlier?

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Let's finish this to the end, freshman!"

_._

_Pwock_

_Fwump_

"It's no use," Horio cried helplessly into his hands. "No matter how good he his for a first-year, Echizen can't possibly do anything with that racket."

Biting his lip, Kachiro glared at his fellow classmate. "Don't say that! We don't know that yet! Ryoma-kun's going to come up with something! I know it!"

Huffing with impatience, Horio glared right back. "Oh shut it! You just don't understand do you? He can't control the ball! What's up with that weird impact sound? Even if he wanted to return the ball, it's not going to work the way he wants it!"

"Hm, probably."

"…!"

The small trio turned to look at the regular members sans captain and vice-captain that had gathered around them. What…?

"Ya-ho~!" A willowy young man called from around the shoulders of the regular who missed his shot to Echizen during the smash-practice that day. "You bunch the chibi's friends?"

Nodding, the timid first-years wondered what the upperclassmen, no, what _these_ upperclassmen wanted with them.

Grinning like a cat, the same third-year answered the questioning looks, "Relax. We just want to learn more about what Arai meant by those three-rackets." At this, the young man who had initially called out to them pushed his glasses further along the bridge of his nose as he opened a notebook, pen at the ready.

Kachiro's eyes widened at this as the teen whose shoulders were being used as a support slanted his gaze towards them. Though he couldn't actually see his eyes, he was sure the young man's attention was trained on him! Taking a step back, Kachiro stumbled into Katsuo as he wondered what he did to garner the individual attention of his sempai.

Fuji smiled at the young boy cowering before him. Oh? It seemed as if this one had some sense as well. Really, this year was full of fun surprises. Widening his smile, he spoke directly to the boy as if to gently admonish him.

"With those kinds of strings, the player wouldn't be able to add a top spin to the ball."

Gulping, the short freshman turned to watch as Echizen threaded slim fingers through the strings of the battered racket. Was it really the end…?

Testing the tension of the tattered strings, Ryoma gave them a soft knock with the back of her hand. Tilting her head to cover her eyes and hide her smile, she softly murmured to the racket, "Hm…Now I get it." Taking a deep breath, she calmed the burning anger and simmered her fury to a soft boil. Time to spice things up a little. Smirking, she readied her position and looked directly into the second-year's eyes with a malicious smirk. He wanted public embarrassment?

She'll serve it to him until he's full and satisfied!

Gritting his teeth, Arai bristled at the challenge he saw in the brat's eyes and posture. _'He's still bluffing! Ha! Well, that's just great! Keep trying to hit the ball! Embarrass yourself! If you're going to brag in front of all these people…"_

_._

_Pock_

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"Think you can win like that?"

The odd gathering of new tennis members and regulars paused in their unproductive exchange to watch Echizen burst into movement. The tiny first-year dug the soles of new sneakers into the court, bending knees to lean back and twist away the upper body to the side. The wound body coiled within itself before snapping forward and returning the ball with the racket grasped tightly in a bruising hold.

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_Slam._

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"He hit it?"

Both Arai and the freshmen were caught by surprise. How'd the kid return the ball?-! Sure, the first-year always managed to reach and hit the balls served, but never back to Arai's court and definitely not with any accuracy to score!

"Oh~ Not bad," the previously laid-back third-year commented as he lifted himself from his friend's shoulders. "The chibi added a spin to the ball by turning his whole body.

Impressive."

"Did you see that? He was able to hit it back with that crappy-looking racket! I guess it's not that old after all…?" one of the gallery remarked,

"Can't be!" another answered. "It's still making a weird impact sound. But that return…

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…It was really fast!"

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Chuckling, Fuji turned his gaze from the interested focus of his friend to the child he's set his eyes on. He can learn to share his interest with his friends for now. It isn't everyday that Eiji found a tennis player that caught his eye. The third-year was a bit spoiled as the youngest of a large family and was rarely bothered to offer his attention to others when he could be stealing the attention for himself. Seeing as how the first-year appeared with potential and with a body-type similar to that of Eiji's, Fuji could see how his fellow classmate would be interested in the play-style of the newest member of the tennis club. Watching the tiny player on the court, Fuji continued his soft chuckles as a perplexed expression crossed the child's face. What was going through that child's mind..., he wondered.

'_Damn…The ball was really slow…'_

Ryoma sighed at the racket held in her hands. Ah, well, it should be enough for a match like this. Ignoring the crowd and noise, Ryoma turned her attention back to the second-year across from her and raised an eyebrow in provocation. So the cocky rooster has his feathers ruffled eh?

"Tsk!

Don't get cocky just because you were able to make it once!"

_Pock_

_Slam!_

"…!" Arai looked from the spot the ball slipped by towards the confident posture of the figure standing opposite him. He blanched at the promise projected from the freshman's eyes.

'_No way! How can he return the ball with that crappy racket?-!'_

Fuji's lips lifted as he opened his eyes. There was a vengeful light swirling in his eyes as he recalled the circumstances the first-years revealed to the regulars earlier. Though the first-years were just as in the dark about the mysterious freshman on the court, having been a target of such juvenile bullying when he was younger (and to a milder and more infrequent extent today), Fuji was relatively sure of the circumstances from what little the three could relay.

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"A great painter does not need to choose his paintbrush," he cruelly whispered to the uncertain Arai on the court.

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Besides him, Inui's glasses glinted in the light as he closed his book to focus on the remainder of the match. "That guy's on fire…"

Eiji, in a rare state, softly agreed with a mellow, "Yeah…"

How will this all end?

Arai pushed his headband higher to hold his sweat-drenched locks away from his face. Breathing heavily, he finally focused seriously on the match, though his attention may have been on the wrong subject.

'_If this keeps going, the one who's going to become the laughing stock is me!'_

Rushing to receive the ball Echizen just sent, he stumbled slightly on his feet as his unevenly distributed weight sent him lower to his knees, tilting him to the side as he fought for balance.

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"Is that ball in the way?"

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"…?-!"

Arai watched with terror as the freshman twisted in the air to send a ball flying between his legs. Where the hell was that bastard aiming at?-!

_Slam!_

The ball sent the one resting between his legs flying, the ball having been rolled out of his pocket when he bent earlier. In shock, his knees gave way as Arai sank to the floor, his body cold and clammy despite the workout and the jacket he still wore, his shoulder-length hair sticking uncomfortably to the back of his neck.

Feathers ruffled indeed. The kid already has full control of that racket…?

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"Hmph."

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"Kaidoh?"

The last of the regulars surrounding the group of freshmen continued walking away from the ongoing proceedings. Without so much as a backward glance, he growled out with a low voice, "I can't bear this anymore.

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He's disgracing us second-years."

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Tugging the front of her shirt, Ryoma let out a brief sigh. "Okay…Warm-up complete."

"…!"

Arai blanched at the implications. "W-What?-!"

Blinking down towards her racket, she ignored the second-year who didn't even deserve to be called her sempai. Not only did he disrespect her and tennis by writing them off just because she was a first-year and it was a weathered racket, but he actively sought to belittle them both by using that very same tennis. It was an insult that would've provided a convenient excuse should she have lost.

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But she hated excuses.

They were unforgivable.

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And so it was an insult upon another and upon a third. Each more deplorable than the last. A grievance she had no intention of letting go as lightly as she did with the other second-year.

Smiling sadly at the battered racket in her hands, she tenderly cradled the handle. The strings were cut loose during the match. "It doesn't matter…" she whispered, the angry simmer slowing down to a golden shine. At least this poor racket can go out of commission playing a game where it taught a disrespectful tennis player, one who was probably exactly like the people who did this to the racket, what dignity on the court means. Tennis wasn't a game where the outcome is decided by such trivial and shallow, meaningless things. Tightening her grip, she turned a baleful gaze towards the trembling fool and unleashed the full fury in her eyes as she spitefully bared her fangs at the second-year.

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They'll show him. They'll show the world.

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"Let's finish this to the end, sempai!"

_._

_Seishun Gakuen, Conference Room_

"So, what do you think, Tezuka?"

Oishi, a young man with an interesting haircut that left two strands of bangs framing his eyes asked the stoic young man besides him. Really, what was a vice-captain to do with such a stuffy leader? Pointing out the window towards the ongoing match below them, he smiled in an attempt to soften the bespectacled boy towards the idea.

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"I can't forgive those who break the rules."

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"Get everyone to start running!" Tezuka continued with a bark.

"What?" Oishi asked in surprise. "Even the regulars?"

Without ever removing his eyes from the match below, the captain replied, "Yeah, those guys too."

Grumbling, Oishi left the room with the captain still staring out the windows. With a sigh, Ryuzaki-sensei rested her chin in the palm of her hand as she turned to look at the tense shoulders of the boy she watched grow the past three years.

"Is it really so unforgiveable?

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Echizen Ryoma being a girl."

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"…"

She had explained the situation to the serious captain earlier. If no one else, at least the captain needed to know of the circumstances. Not everything of course, but that might be why he was so against the thought of allowing a female into a boy's club. Without any further explanation or reason, it was difficult to convince such a straight-laced young man to bend the rules and outright feign ignorance for a stranger. He probably would hesitate even for a friend!

But oh, she needed at least his agreement to support Ryoma!

Sighing, she closed her eyes as she sank her chin further. What could she do…?

"I'm not saying that you have to let her participate in official matches or allow her any special privileges. Just treat her as you would any new member for now. I'm sorry I can't tell you more, but her story is her's to tell. Just give her a chance to prove herself. You can kick her out anytime. But I can guarantee you that you need this as much as she does."

Opening one eye, she rolled it over to focus on the still silhouette stamping a shadowed outline against the soft pastels of the autumn sky.

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"She's the pillar you're looking for."

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Ryuzaki smirked at the small jerk of his shoulders at the mention of his desperate search. She closed her eyes and hummed softly to herself. Already a third year, time was running out. This was a gamble for both Ryoma and Seigaku. If they could succeed, what Nanjiro couldn't accomplish then, perhaps now…

"So? How is it Tezuka? Can you divide it into four blocks? Though first-years aren't allowed to enter until summer, this year's school tournament that is like determining who will be regulars…"

She glanced at the still empty box on the D-block matches.

"Well... that's also for the captain to decide…"

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**End Genius 006**

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A/N: Yay, an update. So, I wonder what Tezuka will decide? How will he deal with the fact that he's being asked to smuggle in a girl into a boy's club? Is he willing to risk it should anyone find out?

Hope you liked this chapter! Please review and let me know what you all think!


	8. Genius 007: Start of Ranking Tournament

Wintersalad │ Disclaimer: I do not own "Prince of Tennis" or any referenced translations. │ Written: 09/20/10 │ Posted: 09/22/10 │ Last Edited: 05/04/11

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**Genius 007: The Start of the Ranking Tournament**

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_Seishun Gakuen, Class 3-2_

Oishi Shuichiro worried at his lips as he walked out of his classroom. Today was the start of the ranking tournaments and he still didn't know what Tezuka's decision was. When Ryuzaki-sensei suggested adding Echizen Ryoma to the list, they'd both been stunned. It was a startling suggestion, but not completely incomprehensible. Given what the two of them went through as freshmen*, it was actually more surprising that they hadn't thought of the possibility themselves. He'd love to open the opportunities to all talented players, regardless of age. Now that they had the power to do so, he wanted to use that power in order to support the future players of Seigaku, as their seniors should have done for them.

What worried Oishi however was the stubborn refusal he saw in his friend's body language. Tezuka never said anything, but it was clear that he was against the idea. What reason did the captain have against Echizen competing? Of course, he too was worried about the response the second and third-years would have at the breaking of traditions. Not to mention the first-years that will not be given the same favor. It will out-right look as if they were approving of direct insubordination to showcase one's personal ability, an example of favoritism, which could lead to disastrous consequences of rebellion and anarchy. Even still, there was not a single ounce of consideration to do so in the steadfast captain, and that, in Oishi's eyes, is a matter of concern.

What was he missing…?

So consumed in his thoughts was he that the vice-captain almost missed the passing figure of the object of his attentions leaving from the room next to his. Reaching out, Oishi was about to call out when all of a sudden, he was pulled down by an abrupt weight upon his shoulders.

"Oishi!" a cheerful voice sang in his ear.

"E-Eiji," he replied, steadying his knees to support the additional weight. "What are you doing here?"

Pouting, the third-year allowed gravity to pull his full mass towards the young man he was clinging to in punishment. "Why? Aren't you happy to see me? I'm definitely going to beat you today!"

Sighing, the worried member of the team glared half-heartedly at the amused regular that appeared to have tagged along with his classmate. Fuji was being decidedly unhelpful as he hung back and enjoyed his predicament.

"We'll see…"

Frowning, Kikumaru Eiji hopped off and spun around front to face the despondent teen. "What's wrong with you today? Don't tell me you're going to play the matches with this kind of mood! I'm not going to let you say you lost to me because you weren't feeling into the game!"

Brushing off the incised boy, Oishi kept walking down the stairs towards the club room. He'd already lost sight of Tezuka minutes ago. He guessed he'll just have to learn about the decision when everyone else did.

"It's not that, I'm just thinking about something Ryuzaki-sensei brought up during the last meeting."

Fuji's smile slipped off his face as he trained his seemingly closed eyes on him. "Oh?" he inquired. Oishi cursed under his breath. Damn, that boy was always too sharp for his own good!

"It's nothing. Just… you know that first-year Momo was talking about?"

Eiji nodded. "The kid who kicked Arai's butt in front of everybody the day you two had that meeting."

"Yeah, that one. Well, apparently his dad has some major pull with the faculty here and Ryuzaki-sensei requested that the first-year, Echizen Ryoma, be allowed in the ranking tournament."

"Eh~?" Eiji frowned and wrinkled his nose in distaste. "What's that? And here I was just starting to like the shorty's spunk."

"Well," Oishi quickly amended. "Echizen doesn't know his dad's put in a word for him. In fact, from what I hear, the two don't get along very well. And it's more as if Ryuzaki-sensei's doing the string-pulling than his dad anyways. I think they were family friends of some sort and Ryuzaki-sensei knew Echizen when he was young. Anyways, she said something about the first-year needing to be part of the team as much as the team needs Echizen to be part of them. It felt like she was hinting towards some troubles the kid's going through."

Fuji turned his gaze away from them to look forward with an unreadable expression. "Sounds complicated…"

"Well I don't like the suggestion that we're so lacking that we need some cheating first-year to help us out," Eiji objected with crossed arms, already forgetting his previous assessment of the first-year's potential. What gave him the right to bypass a standing regulation everyone in the tennis club had stood by for years before he even joined?

Nodding absentmindedly, not in the mood to deal with Eiji's tantrums, Oishi solemnly walked onwards towards their destination with the two remaining third-years following in silence.

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This year's ranking tournament was going to be the catalyst for something huge.

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_Seishun Gakuen, Campus Ranking Matches_

All the tennis club members, from first to third-years, gathered around the captain and vice-captain. The regulars took position near the front while the upperclassmen took position behind them. The underclassmen tethered around the edges in the back and to the sides, timid yet curious. There was a buzz going around the tennis courts today and the air was charged with a restless energy.

"Every month," Tezuka began. All noise dropped and the attention honed in on the captain standing up front. "There is a ranking tournament for the tennis club. Every second and third-year will be divided into four blocks to compete against one another. The top two players from each block will become regulars. A total of eight players will therefore be eligible to start in different tournaments."

An excited murmur rustled through the first-years. The upperclassmen however remained silent, serious and attentive. This was their year and they were going to prove it! The regulars smirked, confident but still anxious to secure their spots as starting players.

Tezuka waited the noise out. He grasped the clipboard tightly in his hands as he faced his club. He could feel the amused stare of the coach and the worried glances of his vice-captain. He had refused to give a decision until the last minute, unsure of the risks he was willing to stake for the future of this tennis team. He had wanted to aim for the Nationals, but with the team as they were now…

The captain sifted his gaze through the crowd before him. His attention landed on the leaning figure of a young teen against the fence, just far enough away to appear disinterested, but close enough to participate. He narrowed his eyes at the thin ankles and smooth limbs reclining backwards. The clothes, small as they were, hung from a thin frame. Honestly, it wasn't hard to mistake the girl for an undernourished youth. He suspected there wasn't really much to worry about in way of feminine guiles disturbing the team from the child, but he still couldn't shake off his uneasiness.

.

It was just too unnatural to go to such lengths to immerse one's self in a lie.

.

Granted, he didn't know exactly what the lie was, only that it entailed the girl to pretend to be a boy, but the world wasn't such an easy reality that it could forgive simple whims. He had observed the child the past few days when he could. She was detached in her social relationships, but the passion she lacked in her relationships was obsessive in her game. She was an unstable element, dangerous to both others and herself. In fact, he didn't see what the coach seemed to believe existed in the girl that would help him, help Seigaku. There seemed to be more that he had to work _on_ than he had to use _w-_

"…!"

Dark amber eyes glared at him from beneath silky tresses. And for the first time, Tezuka saw in them neither the sorrow nor the anger. He saw the _hunger_. He saw the gold waiting to spill forth and knew that while she may not have what it takes to support Seigaku now, with the proper incentive and guidance…

Fuji watched the exchange with dispassionate eyes. Tezuka was one of the only players he had ever met that brought out his true tennis and so in that regard, Fuji respected the captain. But, narrowing his eyes, he really did not care for the calculating determination and ambition that danced across his face just now. Sure, he was all for fun and games, but the child was still too young and raw. His sharp eyes slid to the bristling first-year.

The child was still too fragile for any of Tezuka's grand schemes right now.

Perhaps it was because the child was around Yuuta's age. Or perhaps it was because he saw parts of himself in the child. Whatever the case, Fuji was familiar with Tezuka's clinical handling of other players and his cold personality. It wasn't that the captain wasn't good at his job- he was. He puts the team's welfare before his own and looks after his players where he can.

.

But Tezuka was strong.

.

His world was clearly defined and there is no hesitation when it comes to his beliefs. The fact that Oishi is troubled over Tezuka's indecision indicated towards Tezuka's desperation. For what, Fuji could haphazard a guess. But the trouble was not what caused the indecision or even the indecision itself, as Oishi seemed to mulling over, but it is what the indecision will lead to.

.

A desperate man is a dangerous man.

.

And a strong man- too strong, for only he would fall to desperation- even more so.

"That is the tradition," Tezuka continued as if the brief nonverbal interaction never occurred. "This year however, an exception is being made for first-year, Echizen Ryoma. Due to high recommendations from both faculty and regular team members, he is to be given a chance to test his worth in the upcoming matches."

A loud outburst broke through the tension as there was flurry of movement in the confusion and disbelief. What the hell was going on?

"If anyone finds this to be unfair," the captain went on over the increased volume. "You are welcomed to test your skills against his to prove it. I will listen to any objections thereafter. Other first-years wishing to participate, please speak to either the vice-captain or the coach for a spot in the open blocks.

I wish you all the best."

And with that, the young man dismissed the crowd, leaving the chaos for his vice-captain and coach to deal with. It was the least they could do after suggesting such a controversial change.

"Alright! Alright! Everyone who needs to speak with the coach, please form a line towards the side," Oishi directed. "The blocks will be posted on the boards located outside the courts! Please find your next match and prepare yourself accordingly! When the match is over, please be sure to head over to the representative waiting at each station and record your win! The tournament will begin in fifteen minutes from now!"

As the flustered vice-captain was left to deal with the incoming crowd, he spied Echizen leaving the courts out of the corner of his eyes. Smiling discreetly, Oishi redoubled his efforts in returning order to the club as he resolved to support the beginning of a revolution in Seigaku's tennis. He will support its future.

That was his job as the vice-captain of the Seigaku Tennis Club!

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**End Genius 007**

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**Notes:**

* Hopefully, the allusion to Oishi's and Tezuka's past is clear to you. If not, I may or may not further elaborate on it in the future. Feel free to leave a question in a review or pm for a more direct and immediate answer however, if looking it up or waiting doesn't seem favorable.

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A/N: So, this is sort-of, kind-of, the end of Volume 01. Not exactly, but it's to give a general sense of where we are in terms of the manga. Technically, the chapters of this fanfic should follow the main events of the chapters of the manga, thus the identical/similar chapter titles and such. At least, that's my intention, but it might end up not working out that way. Such as in this case, where the chapter is mostly original and followed only maybe two or three of the premises from the original manga chapter.

There wasn't much action, but I'll make up for it in the next chapter. I hope no one hates me so far for making Tezuka appear so cold-blooded or Eiji so obstinate, etc. I'm hoping to keep everyone as in-character as possible, but perhaps emphasizing more on certain parts of their personality at certain times. Hopefully no one thinks I'm overdoing it or coming up with things out of thin-air. I'm trying to make this fanfic as realistic as possible, even with Ryoma being a girl (_especially_ with Ryoma being a girl).

Let me know what you think so far. Feedback is really helpful for the continuation and development of this fanfic! The reader is as much part of the process as the writer! Thanks!


	9. Genius 008: Fangs

Wintersalad │ Disclaimer: I do not own "Prince of Tennis" or any referenced translations. │ Written: 09/26/10 │ Posted: 09/26/10 │ Last Edited: 05/05/11

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**Genius 008: Fangs**

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Fuming, Echizen Ryoma stalked the grounds in search of fresh prey.

_What was that?-!_

That disgusting self-composed and self-righteous look on the captain's face! That unnerving stare that felt as he were dissecting her with his eyes and mind right in the middle of the tennis courts in broad daylight!

_What was that?-!_

That completely unsatisfying win she took from two of her designated opponents! That aggravating resentment the upperclassmen lavished upon her! That carefree expectation the freshmen heaped upon her so selfishly!

_What was that?-!_

Her brisk strides suddenly slowed to a stop.

What was that stubborn, silent glare…?

In her mind's eye, Ryoma saw immovable golden eyes overlapping with hard black. Her own golden gaze dulled as they became unfocused, searching for an image long lost to her. That boy… Kaido…? If she remembered correctly, he was the second-year who left in the middle of her public lesson (embarrassment) to the obnoxious, bullying second-year who stole her rackets. She recalled briefly glimpsing the back of his colorfully-covered head as he was the only one who left then, seeing the nonsense for what it was. The high-strung teenager closed her eyes as a warm wind danced over her, allowing the capricious fingers to tickle her hair across her face and the tension out of her body.

.

But the sorrow was too soaked within the marrow of her bones to ever escape her.

.

Ryoma refrained from the urge to hug herself. It was no use thinking about the past now. She needed to focus on the present. Her present is what will lead to her future, and if she played her cards correctly, that future will hopefully hold the key to unlocking her past.

And she will find it. Whatever it takes.

.

Kaido or whatever-his-name-is will just have to learn to move for her.

.

The second-year was apparently her next opponent. She bumped into him after reporting her most recent win, quite literally. She had been walking away from the vice-captain, confirming the 6-0 score on the board, when she was distracted by the comments made on her performance and chances. The two regulars by the D-block table were talking about her upcoming match with the second-year when she tripped over said person sitting at the foot of a tree.

As the breeze died out, the small girl swamped in an overly large t-shirt and a pair of long shorts opened her eyes. She looked out from beneath the shade of a school building as the memory of what just transpired transposed itself on the space before her. She watched as her cap fell off in the course of the tumble while she landed in the second-year's lap. Her arms were stretched before her, balancing her body atop his where her hands rested upon his raised knee. Leaning her weight away from his, she turned to apologize (she hadn't been paying attention after all), when her lips, her entire being, were frozen by his resolute glare. It felt as if a minute and an eternity passed as she remained in his lap, unable to tear her frightful eyes away from his descending gaze, the angry angles to his face projecting a ghostly reminder of her nightmares of rusty gold and green. He glared at her from behind her apparition before he ignored the first-year in his lap completely in favor of turning his head and remarking to the third-years looking their way, _"Are you trying to get under my skin, sempai?"_

He hadn't bothered to remove her from his person. He hadn't even bothered to remark about her disgraceful position and inappropriate lack of response.

.

And so she had scurried away like the terrified girl she really was while the attention was diverted from her.

.

They looked nothing alike, the first-year mused as she resumed walking at a leisurely pace. Yet for some reason, they appeared uncannily similar to her in that moment. Enough for her to lose her composure. But she had finally gathered her senses now and she will at least have _him_ acknowledge her on the courts today.

One can not conquer the world in one day. She will take things one step at a time.

"…Ryoma's form was very clean."

"…"

Amber eyes blinked at a flailing form swinging a racket besides the women's tennis courts. The freshman didn't recall being familiar enough with anyone on campus to allow such a casual address of her person. She scrutinized the figure before her. What was with that ridiculous posture? And those ridiculous pigtails… Ryoma narrowed her eyes.

"_Ryoma, I want you to take some time to get to know my granddaughter. Ryuzaki Sakuno, Class 1-1. I know you don't have anything besides improving your tennis skills on your mind right now, but your father and I believe you should improve on your relationship skills first before anything. You're going to need someone to support you during your time here, especially this first year, and it's better if that someone knew at least part of who you truly are."_

'_Who I truly am?'_ the girl mused. Ha! Ryuzaki-sensei* probably only meant that her granddaughter was now privy to her gender, but it mattered not what the lady counselor told the overly feminine girl. She had no intentions of going out of her way to "get to know" anyone, especially not someone who selfishly decided the depth of their relationship when they've only exchanged a few words personally. She wondered just how much the cunning old woman really interfered that day their bet played out. But… that didn't mean she couldn't humor the lady, the girl grinned.

Stalking up behind the girl in full tennis gear, complete with the matching white headband and wristband to a short, pleated tennis skirt, Ryoma knocked her own racket behind the girl's knees as she passed by.

"Your knees are too relaxed."

Smiling softly beneath closed eyes when she heard Sakuno gasp from her sudden shift in balance, Ryoma continued on her way. Perhaps it wouldn't be so bad to have a side hobby to calm her nerves from tennis every now and then. And she _was_ Ryuzaki-sensei's granddaughter. That made her family in some sort of twisted way and she supposed it could be considered normal to be presumptuous with one's own family. She smirked.

It didn't mean that she had to like her.

"Your elbows are too bent.

Your shoulders are too relaxed.

Your hair is too long and your posture is indecisive."

Ryoma waved back at the embarrassed girl without a pause in her stride. Let her take from that what she will.

Pushing the door open, the weary first-year walked into the club room. Echizen noted with disgust the particles of food spraying from Horio's mouth as he bragged about his chances at getting a spot in the regulars as Katsuo blandly shot down his unfounded hopes. Were they also taking part in the tournament…?

"…!" Katsuo noticed the silent figure by the door. "Echizen! Where were you? Your next match is about to start and you still haven't had your lunch yet!" The gangly teen rushed to grab the first-year's hand still resting on the door to pull the thin body to the floor where the rest of them were eating. Really! He just didn't understand how the kid managed to slip away so easily all the time!

"Hn… I think I'll take lunch after this," the solemn child replied. "I think I've lost my appetite…"

Katsuo eyed the spitted food strewn about the floor with distaste, unaware of the dazed look in Echizen's eyes looking out the window towards the D-courts. "Yea, I guess I can understand that," he agreed with a frown. "It's probably not a good idea to eat so soon before your match anyways."

"Is Ryoma-kun here?"

The gathered first-years turned at the slam of the reopened door.

"Kachiro! What happened to your eye?"

Katsuo let go of his hold on Echizen's wrist to go to his injured friend. They watched as the boy fussed over the swollen eye, wincing at the harsh color contrasting against Kachiro's pale skin.

"I was so absorbed in the game that…," the small boy started to explain. "Never mind that!" He brushed aside Katsuo's hand as he suddenly became aware of the camcorder still in his hands. "I've got a video on Ryoma-kun's next opponent!

Kaido-sempai is amazingly fierce!"

Perking at the mention of Kachiro's assailant, the golden-eyed teen glanced sharply at the painful injury on the boy's face before slanting golden eyes away. The dim embers, shaded by long bangs of dark green hair and a white cap carefully tilted to hide the growing embers, sparked at the possibility of the second-year targeting a fellow first-year.

.

Honestly, today was just full of ghosts wasn't it?

.

.

"_Ya! You think you'll be forgiven? You think you can just leave when you want to?-!"_

_Ryoma cowered into the corner, curling into herself as all sorts of rubble kept pelting themselves against her malnourished young body. Tears pricked the corners of her cheeks. It hurt! Why? Why were they doing this? _

"…"

_There was a sudden silence as the projectiles stopped their course. Meekly, the frazzled girl peeked from behind her arms that were shielding her head and the pile of trash cluttered around her. Maybe they went away…?_

_Round, golden eyes widened in horror as they zoomed in on the chipped blocks of brick clutched firmly between grubby hands. Bricks weren't just any sort of rubble! They tightened their circle around her, grinning maliciously down at their cornered prey before raising their arms in preparation to strike. _

_._

"_Hey. What do you assholes think you're doing with my sister?"_

_._

_From her dark corner, she watched as the shadowed black figures of her tormentors turn towards their uninvited guest. Standing about three feet away, a boy watched the proceedings with a lazy frown. When, after a moment of silent deliberation, the children all rushed the newest member of the alleyway, the boy tossed his perplexed frown in favor of a carefree grin. _

_His forever grin._

_The single ray of sunlight that managed to push through into the darkness of their corner of the world wrapped lovingly around the lithe figure of a flying boy taking down one monster after the next._

_._

_It was the figure of a guardian angel._

_._

"Echizen doesn't stand a chance."

Furious eyes rounded on the person who dared blasphemy. The three freshmen were gathered around the camcorder, pale and apprehensive of what they just witnessed on screen, ignorant of the mental state the subject of their thoughts was working into. Blinking frantically to clear away the memories and sudden tears, realizing just _which_ Echizen was being referred to, the shaken youth grabbed the tennis bag resting on the floor and hurriedly left the room.

"Ryoma-kun?"

"I'm going to warm up."

There was a pregnant silence within the club room as the three were left behind. "You don't think he was bothered by what we said, right?" Horio nervously tittered. Katsuo shook his head. "I don't think so. Echizen's not the type to be discouraged in front of a strong opponent from what we've seen so far. He wasn't even interested in the video."

"No way…" Kachiro softly whined. "And I took the video for Ryoma-kun too…"

.

For the second time that day, Ryoma found herself running away from the ghosts of her past.

And each time, the one to shake up those skeletons in her heart was that blasted second-year. Was it all just a coincidence? Maybe she was just too sensitive? They weren't the only flashbacks she's had since then, but they were among some of the strongest. Having two in one day was rare, being that she would usually be too absorbed the first to notice any possible seconds. Perhaps it was just the stress of the move getting to her…

Noticing the D-courts up ahead, the first-year slowed her run to a jog, pacing her breathing just as she was taught. She needed to calm herself before the match. The only place she could conquer her ghosts was on the courts. That is where she'll defeat him. That is where she'll win her answers.

"There it is! Momoshiro's strongest attack!

Dunk-smash!"

Ryoma walked along the fenced-in courts towards the entrance. Being near the courts helped focus her mind. She let her eyes wander until she found the loud and self-reassured second-year with the spiky hair. She calmly accessed the boy who was arrogant enough to underestimate her and play with an injured ankle.

It looks like it healed just fine.

Noticing the first-year, Momoshiro grinned and walked up to the freshman to give his greetings.

"Hey, you're playing Kaido next right?"

Fuji watched the exchange between his two underclassmen with intrigue from the sidelines. He had heard about their match from Momoshiro himself and was interested in seeing how the child responded to the brash sophomore's personality. Though he wasn't positive he approved of whatever schemes Tezuka had for the child, Fuji will monitor how things play out for now. He'll step in when he must, but for now, he'll allow things to follow its set course.

The first-year stared impassively at the tall regular blocking the entrance. Glancing at the small loophole towards the side, the tiny figure pulled the cap over dark green locks as if in acquiescence before slipping pass without a word.

Puzzled, but nevertheless slightly offended, Momoshiro pursed his lip as he watched the freshman walk towards his next match. Calling out, he warned (taunted) the laid-back kid, "You'd better watch out for Kaido!"

Across from the exchange, Eiji sent an irritated pout towards his friend as Fuji chuckled lightly. What was so funny about what he just said? Really, it wasn't as if he wasn't happy for Momo that he healed so well, but did he have to heal so well _today_? Fuji was so mean!

Out on the court, Kaido took position. Intense eyes took in the freshman who's been kicking up a fuss around the club. Honestly, he wasn't sure how he felt about Momoshiro being rebuffed by the first-year. On one hand, he's glad to see at least one person with enough sense to not fall for the boy's charms. On the other, he's just as aggravated by the teen's lack of respect for his seniors and arrogance. And hearing his name come from his rival's mouth, in either positive or negative context, made his hair stand up on end.

"Best of one set match!

Echizen service play!"

_Pock_

Focusing, Kaido's line of sight held onto the ball, dashing forward to receive the shot and return it to Echizen's court.

Following the ball's trajectory, Echizen ran towards the right of the court, body twisted back to hold the racket in a left-handed grip.

_Pock_

The ball was returned with a clean back-hand. The two continued their heated exchange before Kaido shifted his balance and kneeled down, changing the pace by setting the ball high and towards the back of Echizen's court.

The first-year calmly responded despite this with a smash, pin-pointing it towards the net, and pulled through with the tricky net-play when the ball fell on Kaido's side of the court.

The courts were silent before the white cap, which fell off during Echizen's spring into the air, touched the ground with a small _tap!,_ as if holding their breath in awe.

"A-Amazing!

This is such a high-level match!"

As the crowd went wild around them, Ryoma smiled wryly.

.

Yes, this was where she will beat them all.

.

Feeling as if the day's heavy fog had been lifted, the celebrated first year rolled her shoulders. This second-year wasn't too bad. Testing her grip, she gave her opponent a passing glance, but felt her gaze linger on his tense figure instead. Observing his fierce downward gaze towards his racket and the minute trembling of his arms, Ryoma held her breath as she pondered the implications of Kaido's reaction to the crowd's cheers.

He was directing his anger towards himself.

Normally, regardless if the fault lied with one's self or another, one's anger would be directed towards the opponent because one's emotions were not rational. In any case, a small part of that person would always feel resentment towards the other for arousing such feelings. It meant it was unlikely that Kachiro was targeted with underhanded means or intentions. A person who would do such a thing would most definitely direct his anger towards her, finding some fault or another with her person. Kaido-sempai was someone who drew within himself. He was a man who would seek to improve himself first before saying anything about someone else. As a second-year, many of her past actions would have indirectly affected him one way or another, but he never bothered to show an interest in her personally. When she tripped over him, it was an honest mistake, and he did not aim his attentions upon her. Kachiro's bruised eye may have been a result of a mistake from not seeing the first-year sneaking upon him, or it may have been a lesson to Kachiro for being sneaky in the first place.

Either way, Kaido-sempai was undeserving of her anger or resentment. Her ghosts were her own and perhaps the only reason she was frightened by him was because of the honesty he projects and demands from both himself and of others. Whereas the golden eyes of her nightmares follow her with accusation, his black eyes draw her in with confrontation. They may appear similar in that they both draw conflict, but they were fundamentally different in that the former was a single-sided clash whereas the latter searched for a mutual meeting of minds.

As she served the next ball, Ryoma gave the first heartfelt smile she felt since leaving New York.

_Pock_

Really, what an awkward man!

_Pock_

They continued their rally across the courts, ignoring the gallery's comments. She was enjoying a game with someone around her own age for the first time in a long while and she marveled at the sense of happiness that came from playing with someone who merely loved tennis. There was no need to prove herself to her opponent because her opponent was coming after her with all he had. He cared not for who she was and what she may have done, only that she returned the favor and played a game that brought out his best. He was playing to prove to himself that he can be better, that he will get better.

.

Abruptly, Kaido shifted his weight and swung his racket at the ball at a sharp angle.

_._

_Slam_

"…!"

Ryoma stilled as the ball curved down on her side of the court.

"That's Kaido's snake-shot," Momoshiro smugly informed everyone. "Just as the body's weight shifts from the right foot to the left, he swings his racket with incredible strength, hitting a ball that spins extraordinarily fast.

"Only someone with arms and legs as long as Kaido can do the snake-shot!"

"Heh…"

Ryoma pulled her cap over her eyes. "Returning a ball at that angle…," she turned to stare at the older boy across the court from her and smirked.

.

Just as the viper was baring his fangs down on her now, just as those who bared their fangs at her then, she grinned widely and bared her own fangs straight back.

She'll accept this challenge with thanks!

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**End Genius 008**

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**Notes:**

* "-sensei" translates to "teacher."

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A/N: So, this was a long chapter with a lot of information to take in. I'm not too sure if the messages I want to send across are carrying through smoothly. Would you please leave me feedback on how well the writing comes across and what you got from this chapter? I would appreciate that very much, thank you.


	10. Genius 009: Trap

Wintersalad │ Disclaimer: I do not own "Prince of Tennis" or any referenced translations. │ Written: 10/02/10 │ Posted: 10/02/10 │ Last Edited: 05/05/11

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**Genius 009: Trap**

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Ryoma focused in on Kaido-sempai.

He didn't appear at all phased at her wide grin. Instead, he smoothly leaned his body forward into a bent position and started to sway his large frame, looking for all intents and purposes like a snake preparing to strike.

The first-year tucked in her lower lip slightly, as if to restrain herself from smiling obscenely. How strange! To find a guy who would take her seriously straight from the start, only to find herself more amused than anything! She supposed it was her overflowing feelings of relief and happiness that made her so elated. Of course, the second-year probably intended to put her in her place like all the others had before him, but to Kaido-sempai, it wasn't because he was a second-year and she was a first-year or any other similar boring reason. It was because he was a tennis player who aimed to be the best and she was merely another player standing across from him on the court that he needed to defeat.

She felt her heart clench at his pride.

How long? Ryoma wondered. How long has it been since she's faced someone with such gravity? Since then, the only games she participated in were tournaments. She didn't have time for anything else. She needed to get better- faster. There was no time for building relationships. And all her opponents saw from their side of the net was a cocky, young girl trying to fight her way through a sport that still recognized the differences between men and women.

For the first time in what seemed to be forever, Ryoma felt as if it was alright to believe in Nanjiro and Ryuzaki-sensei a little. Here in Japan, probably not many outside of her family knew she was a girl. And it's been twelve years since the Samurai retired. Until she has fought her way to the higher-level players, few would recognize him in her playing style. There was time for her to change. For her to evolve.

Because here in Japan, she can realize her dream.

This school, where Nanjiro graduated and Ryuzaki-sensei taught, suddenly felt much more welcoming as compared to the schools she's been in while in the states. And for the first time Ryoma felt that, given time, she could learn to return that embrace they've tried so desperately to reach her with. Because, and here she thought briefly of the one named Fuji and Tezuka, she had her monsters to defeat and, Ryoma kept her gaze on Kaido-sempai, she had possibly found what she had lost.

.

Ryoma has found someone she could trust.

.

_Pock_

Stepping back into the game, Ryoma relaxed her body to respond naturally. This was an important game for her. She needed to make sure. She needed to be absolutely positive.

_Pock_

Running to catch up with the ball's trajectory, the freshman returned the ball with a strong swing, hitting low and deep towards the line. With an angry tilt to his lips, Kaido glared at the first-year who dared to challenge him. Something like this won't stop him! Twisting his body to bring the full momentum of his swing, Kaido swung.

"It's the snake-shot again!"

Kaido watched objectively as the brat ran to return the ball. Indeed, being able to keep up with his snake-shot with such a short reach spoke of skill to be admired, but this was going to be the last shot!

_Pock_

"He managed to return it!"

The second-year retained his position on the court, catching the freshman's gaze as the boy righted his balance. They both knew that the ball was going to be out.

"Look!" Arai cried. "Both of them are not relenting-

-!"

Kaido glared at the worthless bastard with full force. He recalled what Kikumaru-sempai gleaned from the first-year's group of friends during Arai's disgraceful match with the first-year. A bastard without honor or pride couldn't possibly understand what it means to stand on a court.

Kaido returned his attention to his opponent. That's right. Tennis is a relentless sport. If you wanted to succeed, you didn't have time to worry about insignificant matters. You needed to push yourself to the fullest! The limits that everyone recognized should never be admitted by you yourself!

.

All a tennis player needed to do was chase after the ball with all his might!

.

"How… How scary…," Horio uttered as he shrunk away from the fence.

"Yeah," Kachiro agreed, scared stiff.

Snickering, Momoshiro called out in a loud voice, "Ha! What a dismal fellow!"

Panting, with her cap tilted over her damp bangs, Ryoma watched as her classmates tried to convince the second-year to lower his voice with a detached expression. The Momoshiro guy…

.

He was too arrogant.

.

Ryoma paused in her observation as she noticed Kaido-sempai watching her. With a puzzled crease to her brows, the small first-year turned fully to face her sempai. He wasn't being roused by his teammate's taunts and had long dismissed the stupid second-year with the headband.

Following his intent gaze, she glanced down at her hand tugging at her collar. Ryoma frowned. Stupid Nanjiro and his stupid insistence on chest bindings. Though she was at an age where such things were going to be needed, the stupid things were too troublesome. Nanjiro had to come up with an idea to make her accept this condition if she were planning to continue with cross-dressing. If only she didn't lose that bet! For now, all it did was make her uncomfortable, but soon, they were going to seriously restrict her breathing.

What tennis player was that masochistic?

Remembering the reasons her cousin softly whispered in her ear when she was frustrated with her loss, Ryoma's eyes dimmed slightly. It felt as if ever since that day, all she had been doing was losing things.

"Freshman"

Looking up from her chest, Ryoma blinked at the blank stare Kaido had fixed on her. Smiling dryly, she closed her eyes and made a show of loosening her collar. "It's hot today, isn't it Kaido-sempai?"

Giving the first-year one last hard look, Kaido turned and walked back towards position with a grunt. He had been watching the first-year clutching the base of his collar with a fist over his heart. Though the brat's eyes had appeared to be unfocused, looking as if affected by the afternoon heat and exercise, he had noticed the focus on Momoshiro. More than exhaustion or distraction, it looked to him as if the first-year was affected by something Momoshiro had said or done. From what he picked up though, it was just the usual taunting of the immature second-year at his expense. Seeing as how there was no reason for the first-year to be affected by such taunts, Kaido had dismissed his observation.

More than what caught the first-year's attention, he had been curious at the freshman's refusal to unbutton his collar. He had been wondering if it was stubbornness seeing as how the boy was panting and sweating slightly. Perhaps it was to make a statement since he himself had yet to take off his jacket. But, as the freshman noticed his gaze, the boy's grip on his shirt slackened and Kaido simply could not ignore his observation of the change in demeanor this time. The swift changes to the brat's emotions were quite disconcerting, especially seeing how he could not fathom from where they came. Annoyed at the worry he sensed arousing from within himself, he had called the kid's attention back to him. Again, the first-year appeared to have been moved by something he could not see or understand and had given him the most perplexing of smiles while loosening his collar.

But, Kaido turned swiftly and sank his knees into position, it didn't matter now. Eyeing the now exposed fragile collarbones, Kaido shook the troubled worry tickling the edge of his senses and returned his focus to the game. The freshman had already fallen into his trap!

"Game point 1 to 1!"

_Pock_

_Pock_

"Ah-h! That Echizen has completely fallen into Kaido's trap!"

Again, Kaido noticed the sharp glance the freshman graced Momoshiro with during their heated exchange on the court. He wondered if the shock of the news was enough to turn his attention away from their game. Even if it was just a split second, Kaido wondered if that second was something he thought he could afford. Aggravated for reasons beyond him, the second-year sent his returns further, faster, watching as the freshman was forced to run to reach the balls.

"A trap?" Horio exclaimed. They were thinking that Echizen was doing well, being able to return that fearsome shot!

"The snake-shot is only Kaido's bait," Momoshiro replied. Ignoring the undivided attention the three freshmen had on him, he stared out at the courts through the fence, watching Echizen run from run side of the court to the other. "His true intention is…"

Catching his drift, Kachiro cried out in worry, "Ryoma-kun's already sweating!"

Not to be outdone, Horio quickly interrupted, "I know! He's being forced to run around the court by the snake-shot! This way, he'll lose stamina rapidly!"

Smirking, Momoshiro leaned down to whisper dramatically to the freshmen, "That's right. This is his trap.

.

"Causing his opponent to lose his stamina is Kaido's true strategy."

.

Back on the courts, Kaido waited to see the freshman's reaction. There was an angry twist to the boy's lips. He was running after the ball with a distracted glare, panting, but not slowing.

He should be almost near his end now.

_Pock_

Bending his knees, Kaido sent a shot straight to the opposite corner of the corner. Righting his position, he moved back towards the line. Again? It felt as if the brat was returning to the same place every time…

_Pock_

_Pock_

'_Strange…_' Kaido bent for another ball. _'He should have lost his energy by now…'_

_Pock_

"Tch!"

Why have his returns become stronger and tougher to return?

"…!"

Looking up and glancing at the first-year, Kaido silently raved. _'Damn! Don't tell me-!'_

_._

"Hey, Kaido-sempai."

.

Startled at the sudden direct address during their rally, Kaido widened his eyes to take in the smirk playing on the freshman's lips.

_Pock _

"You seem to be sweating a lot.

Maybe it'd be better if you take off that jacket?"

_Pock_

Dazed, the stunned second-year sent the ball back without much thought to it. _'It's not his returns that are faster, but my reflexes that are slower!'_

Behind his side of the fence, Kaido heard his sempai comment aloud, "If he has to reach down and hit the balls aimed at his feet, as a result of having to bend low to return the shots, he loses up to two to three times his normal stamina."

_Slam_

Sweating heavily, Kaido lifted his eyes from the ground to confirm the truth gleaming within bright golden eyes that seemed to have finally focused on him. The brat was smirking, his racket held out in challenge as he tossed the next ball casually in the air.

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'_The one falling into a trap… was me?-!'_

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**End Genius 009**

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A/N: Thank you to everyone who's been reviewing and supporting this fanfic! I really appreciate everyone's feedback and I take everyone's suggestions into consideration. Your additional opinion can only help make this fanfic better!

I'm really starting to have fun writing this so I can only hope everyone's enjoying _Genius_ as much as I am!


	11. Genius 010: A Contest of Wills

Wintersalad │ Disclaimer: I do not own "Prince of Tennis" or any referenced translations. │ Written: 10/03/10 │ Posted: 10/09/10 │ Last Edited: 05/05/11

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**Genius 010: A Contest of Wills**

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Letting out a shrill whistle, Momoshiro slumped back with his hands tucked in his pockets.

"That Kaido sure met his match."

The second-year turned to explain to the puzzled first-years with a disengaged expression. "By using the snake, Kaido made Echizen run around the court, making him tired. But Echizen overcame that by aiming the balls at Kaido's feet so that he had to bend down to return his shots.

"This way, Kaido loses more stamina."

There was a brief silence as the information was processed before the first-years all returned to the game with renewed vigor. There was still hope!

"Amazing! Go Echizen! Go, go, go!" roared Horio.

"Ryoma-kun!"

Tuning out her fellow teammates, Ryoma tried to remain focused on the game. She frowned in distaste from Momoshiro's brief regurgitation of what the bespectacled regular just said a moment ago. Really, wasn't he all confident earlier about her falling for Kaido-sempai's trap? Where was he coming from with all that detached self-reassurance? Switching from taunting one player to another? That cocky attitude when he didn't even recognize her strategy himself…

The first-year watched as her opponent appeared all the more worn-out as the critique kept pouring in. It appeared as if the second-year was more easily influenced than she first thought.

"The one who realizes the secret technique being used and the one who doesn't," the captain intoned. "That's the difference between them.

"Kaido has lost to his own strategy!"

Sighing internally, Ryoma felt the beginnings of disappointment stir through her. Perhaps he wasn't the one after all? To be so affected by something of this level…

.

The fangs of a snake are meant to paralyze with venom, but the fangs of a mammal are meant to tear apart the flesh.

.

Was he going to just let her rip him apart without fighting back?

She watched as the second-year gritted his teeth and sent the ball to her side of the court with dogged determination. But the straight shot down the center of the court spoke volumes to Ryoma. Was this it? Biting her lip, Ryoma gripped her racket and held it raised behind her.

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"This technique," the first-year calmly spoke. "The snake-shot should be the 'buggy-whip-shot,' right?"

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Kaido glanced sharply at the freshman. "What?"

If he was going to let her do as she pleased, then she'll shred him apart until there was nothing left. She thought he was someone who fought with himself, someone who strove to improve himself as a person, as a tennis player, first and foremost. Someone who wouldn't let the world define his failures and limits. And he might be. But while he might not let the world define them _for_ him, she also had no need for someone who admits that failures and limits exist at all in the first place.

Because that is what she is fighting against.

She did not care for someone who would be defeated by himself. If he thought she'd die without complaints before the venom has completely set in, he had another thing coming.

She would never admit defeat.

In a contest of wills, she would never lose. Golden eyes filled with recrimination flashed through her mind. What a farce life was! Panting, she forced the weight of her attention on the second-year who dared give her hope. Strange, she thought distractedly, she didn't think the chest-bindings were this tight- she really was having trouble breathing now.

While he waited, she'd go straight for his jugular!

With a blank expression, Ryoma swung forward with a forehand shot, giving the ball an offset topspin that caused the ball to curve to the left corner of Kaido's court. Distantly, she noticed the uproar the gallery was in, but she didn't tear her eyes away from the stunned look on Kaido's face. She'll etch his memory inside herself along with all the rest. Proof of yet something else she was fighting against.

Pride was really such a volatile, yet fragile, thing.

In order to hold it, truly hold it, you must fully embrace it and never let go. Even if it should ever explode or cut you, no matter how much you bleed, you must grasp it in both hands and crush it against yourself. That is what it means to hold pride. Because pride is definitely not your friend. It is a treacherous beast you need to constantly discipline least it destroys you.

.

You must learn to be its master and not its slave.

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"Sempai," she started, playing her trump card for all it was worth. "This shot was rather difficult.

"I recently saw an article which described the technique. After watching your demonstration, I decided to give it a try, but what a pity, I can't reach very far so the effect isn't as good."

Besides Tezuka, Fuji watched the events warily. The analytical gaze of the captain unnerved him and for all the amusement the child's match was bringing him, the worry was enough to tip the balance. No matter how the small first-year tried to play it off as mere technique and perhaps skill, talent isn't something you can just play off for long. And Fuji had no doubt the child was hiding much skill and talent- perhaps even genius. Fuji narrowed his eyes at the mad light streaking through the child's eyes.

Really, the third-year huffed slightly before closing his eyes, all this excitement was going to wear him out!

He smiled.

'_The snake-shot? How did he learn to use it just by watching me?-!'_

"The 'buggy-whip-shot' is a technique used by professional tennis players, such as Hingeise and Sempras. It starts with a loop from bottom to top, and using the centrifugal force, makes it spin," the same bespectacled regular recited to the second-year from behind the fence. "Kaido's snake-shot was derived from that technique. As it requires some skill, it isn't something you could learn in a day or two however."

His observation earned him a lazy glare from the first-year on the court. Fuji tittered at his fellow teammate's disgruntled look. Why was data so underappreciated?

While his friend groused, Fuji watched the remainder of the match. Kaido was pushing through quite commendably, considering the mental and physical shock dealt to him so unmercifully. The underclassman had just recently joined the regular ranks and so has had very limited experience with other players, especially of this caliber. Though…, the third-year watched the solemn freshman, it appears as if the child had little patience for paltry reasons or excuses. He crinkled his eyes.

How strict.

"Game set!

Match won by Echizen Ryoma, 6-4!"

Lips pursed, Ryoma stared down at her feet, her cap tilted to shade her heated blush. Gripping her racket tightly, she felt a small tremor ripple through her. Was this really it? Was Nanji and Ryuu-baa* wrong after all? Had she been carried away along with their false hopes and led astray by her compromised instincts? The past few days here in Japan had been one of the roughest sailing in emotional highs and downs she had ever gone through- it wouldn't be strange if she was more than a little lost without knowing it.

.

"Hey! Hey!"

.

Startled, Ryoma glanced up and was caught by what she saw.

"He… He's hitting his own knee!"

The world seemed to go on mute and the wind washed everything out besides the furious figure of the second-year hitting his knee with the full force of his racket. Repeatedly, the sounds of impact echoed through her ears until her own heartbeat synchronized.

_Thump_

_Thump_

_._

_Thump!_

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Her eyes wide and innocent, she dazedly watched the blood trickle in tiny streams down his knee, the crimson red diluting to dull rouge as it mingled with sweat.

"_What do you think you're looking at, Chibisuke?"_

_There was dirt, blood, rain, tears, mud, snot, spit, and everything in between. Blazing golden eyes glared up at her from the ground. It was the last rumble of thunder, warning of the storm to come._

_._

"_Don't _you_ look down on me!"_

_._

Sudden movement caught her eye and she ran to the edge of the net, catching Kaido just before he left. Steeling her resolve, she held out her hand.

"Handshake."

Kaido stared down the first-year. Through the red haze, he saw the brat's outstretched hand. Such a small frame. It didn't give the feeling that it could withstand even the smallest of angry winds. He narrowed his glare on the minute trembling of pale fingers.

Snarling, the second-year turned and slammed the gates open.

.

_And so the lightning struck._

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**End Genius 010**

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**Notes:**

* "-baa" is a shortened version of the suffix for "grandmother." Here, where Ryoma is distinctly mentally and emotionally disturbed, she reverts back to what is to be assumed her childhood nicknames for Nanjiro and Ryuzaki-sensei. It's of interest to note the she calls Nanjiro by his name and in the context "Nanji and Ryuu-baa, "it can also be interpreted as "Nan-ji and Ryuu-baa," where-ji would be for "grandfather." Oh, the implications of Ryoma's childhood!

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A/N: Thanks to everyone's reviews, I have been encouraged to edit the first few chapters. Many have voiced their opinions that the beginning of _Genius_ is too similar to the original manga. I have reposted, but the only major edit was _Genius 001_, so please kindly provide your feedback along with this chapter. Let me know how you think the changes work! Thank you!

As for the relationship between Kaido and Ryoma, it is going to be a complex one to develop, so please be patient for a few more chapters as I flesh things out between them. They both have some flaws they need to work around with so the tension will be high for a while. I hope Ryoma's overlapping flashbacks or extreme mood changes aren't too confusing for anyone. She'll become more stable later on the story, I promise. Please look forward to future character development!


	12. Genius 011: Defeat

Wintersalad │ Disclaimer: I do not own "Prince of Tennis" or any referenced translations. │ Written: 11/24/10 │ Posted: 11/24/10 │ Last Edited: 05/05/11

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"_What do you think you're looking at, Chibisuke?"_

It was raining that day.

_He was scrawled out across the ground, shivering. She stood over his prone form, mesmerized by the mixture of colors, watching as spindling fingers uncurled. As if to reach for her. As if to grasp her. _

It wasn't until after that she learned that there was a tornado alert.

_She knew blood. She knew rain. She knew dirt, tears, mud, spit and every combination in between. They lived it everyday. But never like this. Never had her moniker sounded so foul coming from between his lips._

They should have just stayed home.

_His blazing golden eyes burned through her. But before she could react, large hands covered her eyes and pulled at her. Pulled her backwards and away. Backwards and away from him, but it still wasn't fast enough. Through the cracks of the closing fingers, she saw her fallen angel miraculously pull his battered body from the soiled floor and launch towards her with unbelievable agility. A miracle fueled by despair and vengeance. _

He should have never been broken.

"_Don't _you_ look down on me!"_

She should have never allowed him to fall apart.

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"_Ryo-nii*…"_

_._

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**Genius 011: Defeat**

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"Alright people, that's it for today! First-years are to stay behind and clean up! Everyone else is dismissed!"

Two consecutive claps signaled the mass dispersion from the courts. The crowd flowed away from where Ryoma still stood center, a growing wave of open space. Resisting the current, Fuji stood firm and stayed to observe the first-year's shaken form.

Tezuka had already left.

He watched the child hastily retrieve a still outstretched hand and hide trembling fingers. The remaining first-years had finally moved to help clean up and the recent celebrity somehow imitated a smirk as they all moved towards the supplies. Taking in the proceedings through lidded eyes, there was no mistake about the sharpness in the regular's continued gaze. The first-year, however, was too distracted to notice.

Well, the third-year smiled secretively, we all have our own secrets to keep.

Turning, Fuji left the first-years to their task and walked towards a shouting Eiji. He'll forgive the slight this time. It was a big match for both the underclassmen it seemed. That and it just wasn't fun to dissect a specimen when their attention wasn't on you.

Grabbing a broom, Ryoma immersed herself in sweeping up the grounds.

"I can't believe Echizen defeated Kaido-sempai," Horio commented as he grabbed the remaining broom, eyeing the boy dragging his own across the courts distractedly. His first impression of the kid wasn't at all that remarkable. And it still wasn't, when Echizen wasn't with a racket in his hands or participating in English class. He'd been curious when he first called out to the boy that day. How could someone who looked so lost, so indifferent, to the world around him be carrying a tennis bag? How did such a lazy, unimpressive person hide such explosive tennis-play within himself?

It just didn't seem fair.

"Yeah, he defeated a regular," Kachiro hummed beneath a smile.

"I've always believed that Echizen would win," Katsuo answered while rolling up his end of the net, meeting Kachiro in the center. "I'm sure if it's Echizen, he'll have no problem becoming a regular."

Horio frowned. "But after this, there's still Inui-sempai. Even if it's Echizen, he's a third-year an-"

"He will win!"

Taken aback, Horio blinked at the two freshmen who had rapidly become staunch supporters of the laid-back first-year in question. Somewhat ashamed, the boy averted his eyes from their glares and replied, "Don't get so excited. I want Echizen to win as well, it's just that…"

Sighing, Ryoma stopped her broom at their feet. Lifting her head up so that her cap didn't block her view of the three, she intoned, "It doesn't matter who wins or loses. Get out of my way. If you're done putting the stuff away, grab one of the smaller brooms and help me finish sweeping."

Flushing upon realizing that Echizen had already finished sweeping most of the court while they were still standing still in the same spot, Katsuo immediately ushered everyone out of Echizen's way and placed the rolled-up net away. Grabbing two of the smaller brooms, he ran back and handed one to Kachiro. How embarrassing!

Kachiro, however, appeared too enthusiastic about his new idol's win to realize the same humiliation. Unabashed, he turned bright eyes towards the boy who resumed his sweeping and asked, "Ryoma-kun! Let's me ask you, have you undergone rigorous training since you were little? You're strong! You've probably never lost right?"

Katsuo meekly swept his immediate area in a small circle, keeping one ear open for Echizen's reply. Horio merely stood still with broom in hand, waiting for an answer.

There was a break in Ryoma's stride at the sudden inquiry. A keen silence held the air before she resumed her task, filling the air with the soft, lonely scratches of her broom's bristles against the floor.

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"I lose every single day."

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From where they were standing, the three addressed freshmen saw nothing but Echizen's small solitary figure against the dimming blue of the sky. They heard nothing but Echizen's distinctively damning reply.

"..Eh?"

No one acknowledged the pitiful sound choked from between one of their lips. His own perhaps? There was a profound meaning echoed within that single sentence that no one wished to feel. One that implied intimate acquaintance with loss and no comprehension of victory.

"Haha..," Kachiro weakly waved off the unease. "Stop joking. You want to become a professional player right?"

Wrinkling her brows, Ryoma continued to pull the debris towards the growing pile of soot. What? She sensed a sudden shift in topic, but it was too subtle to be sure. Slanting her eyes, she glanced at the three from beneath her cap.

Oh.

She returned her eyes to her path towards the pile. Though her classmates were looking straight at her, the shift in topic was the equivalent to the way one shifted their eyes upon confronting a handicapped person. Their continued gaze was the equivalent to the way one brazenly stared at the aftermath of a car accident. To both the victim and the perpetrator of what they deem a spectacle, there is no subtlety in their discomfort and morbid curiosity.

There was a bitter taste in her mouth as Ryoma contemplated whether they believed her to be the former or the latter in their car accident. Scornfully, she replied, "Uninterested."

Eyes wide, all three cried together, "How come?" Their exclamations this time around _demanded_ an answer from the boy in front of them. But while Kachiro and Katsuo appeared disappointed and perplexed, Horio was flushed with anger and indignation.

With a soft sigh, Ryoma wondered, not for the first time, if there really was a need to interact with people like Nanjiro and Ryuzaki-sensei kept insisting. Having finished sweeping, she returned the broom and turned to leave, harsh golden eyes haunting her every step.

.

"There is a guy I need to defeat in tennis."

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But can you really defeat those who've already accepted loss themselves?

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_Seigaku Ranking Tournament – Group D – Day 1_

_Kaido Kaoru__: 2 wins, 1 loss (2 games left) │ __Echizen Ryoma__: 3 wins (2 games left) │ __Inui Sadaharu__: 2 wins (3 games left)_

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**End Genius 011**

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**Notes:**

* "-nii" is the shortened suffix/honorific for "older brother."

* "Omamori" is a type of charm that has been blessed by someone at a shrine. They're usually little slips of paper wrapped in silk or cloth. Bells are also sometimes used, believed to have certain properties. There are charms for nearly everything you can think of, from safe driving to safe birth. It's generally meant for protection and good luck.

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A/N: Sorry for the late update! I was pretty sick and as a result, got behind schedule in my other responsibilities, leaving me with no time to update. I'd like to say I'll update more or even just regularly from now, but I'm still pretty much swamped in work so the most I can promise is to do my best and to write whenever I can and update as soon as possible. Please be patient and lend me your support! There is still so much I want to do with this fanfic!

This was a really difficult chapter to write because there was so much I wanted to put in it, but was unsure of how to go about it. In the end, it turned out like this, but I'm not quite sure I'm satisfied with it.

Please do review. I love hearing from everyone and in fact, everyone's been helping me to improve this fanfic each time they give me some advice or input. As you can probably already see, I take everyone seriously. I smile each time I get another review from someone I've already heard from and the reviewers who've been constantly supporting me are those I treasure the most, so thank you! It is you who I'm most anxious to update for and most worried of disappointing. I hope I continue to meet your expectations!

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**Genius 011: Extra**

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"Ryoma! How about some exercise before dinner? I'll go easy on you by using only one of my legs. How about it?"

Ryoma eyed the cigarette between Nanjiro's lips.

He was biting the ends again.

Sighing, she set Karupin gently on the floor and turned to retrieve her racket. Really. She paused to look at the room she was in. What a mess they were without Ryo-nii. Reaching for the doorknob, the girl yelled behind her back, "You don't need to go easy on me!"

Exiting the room, Ryoma ignored the soft chime of a faded omamori* still resting on the door handle. Softly, she whispered, "What an annoying father."


End file.
